One of Three
by silverspirit737
Summary: Sequel to SotNS. Lana, Arra's daughter, leaves Karucia to find her own adventures but ends up getting more than she bargained for. SpinOff
1. Parents Will Worry

A/N: Do do do . . . sequel. REMEMBER THAT S-E-Q-U-E-L! So that means you may want to read the one that comes before it!

Yes . . . I decided to post it. BUT! Once I realize that my writing is sucking or the story doesn't seem to be going anywhere I'll delete the story. Alright? Feel free to give me ideas in reviews if you think that'll keep me writing (if I were to use any of the ideas I would thank you in the story of course.) As of yet I know what I'm going to do with the story but the little things are the hardest to write. SO! With that done I want to remind everyone this will be a spin-off and from there the story will commence.

**Disclaimer**: This will be for the entire story, all of its chapters included, I will not write it for every chapter. I DO NOT own this, the world and many concepts belong to Tamora Pierce.

**Chapter 1: Parents Will Worry**

The woman paced. She was short in stature and thin, but anybody who knew her or knew of her was not so easily fooled. This small woman could intimidate almost any man, except her husband who in fact was in the room watching her as she paced.

He decided to add something, to at least break the silence. "Do we even know _why_ they left?"

The woman stopped pacing and stood rigid for a while before slipping a piece of paper at him, "Except for that not we have no other idea."

The man took a deep breath. "Arra, come sit down. I'm sure even _you_ will wear yourself out if you continue like this."

Arra shot him a look. She went by Arra for short but her full name was Semarra, or Queen Semarra I of Silver Crest. She owned long wavy hair that she usually kept tied back and bright crystal blue eyes. High cheekbones gave her an elegant look. Arra took a seat stiffly. She let her head fall into her hands and closed her eyes. Who would have thought having children would be so . . . infuriating?

A large hand rubbed her back warmly. "We could always send half of the army after them. As I recall, your father once did that."

Arra pulled away her hands from her face and glared at him. "Liam, this is no time to joke."

King Liam of Conte pulled his small wife closer to him and made her lean against him in hopes she would relax. Being married, one of them _should_ have changed their name to the other's, usually the female to the male's, but their political marriage had asked that Liam not change the 'Conte' part of his name and Arra could not change hers due to what her subject would say. Personally, he would not have minded changing his name, it was after all only a name.

His hair was black and unlike the past Kings he had heard of he remained clean-shaven, though recently he had begun to think about growing some sort of facial hair. His eyes were hazel and always understanding.

"I was only half-joking." He said. "We can scry for them and when we find them we can bring them back here."

The both of them sat in silence for a while as if thinking it over but Arra spoke first.

"No."

Liam was startled by that. She went to so much trouble to worry and vent about their leaving only to turn down the plan to bring them back here. Liam cleared his throat. "You can't possibly mean that."

"I do." She said.

He frowned. "Arra, you'll have to explain. They are my children too, I want them back. Please tell me why that would _not_ be a good idea."

She sighed. "Liam, how old are they? Sixteen? I was traveling on my own by that age."

"Arra, you were Shang-trained and perfectly able to defend yourself."

"We haven't left them defenseless!" Arra said.

Liam gave her a look. "Your situation and their's are completely different."

"Yes," Arra agreed. "I was alone, and there is three of them. Between the three of them they are _capable_, Liam. Capable of many, many things."

Liam took a deep breath, "I know." He waited a while. "Do you even want your children back?"

"Of course," She whispered. "Of course I do. But if we try to hold them back Liam we'll only loose them forever. Let them be free, if even for a little while." She paused. "Maybe the Shang in me passed down to them, maybe they are restless."

"Are _you_ restless?"

Arra shrugged. "Don't worry Liam, we'll keep track of them. We'll scry for them every now and then. But if I catch you trying to send someone to bring them back I will be _very_ unhappy with you."

Liam laughed. "I know, love. I know."

Just then their oldest son, Emereth, entered. He had very dark hair, like Arra, though not black, and hazel eyes. He gave them a look. "The triplets will be fine. They always are." He stated.

Liam and Arra sighed in unison. It might have been true but that didn't make it any easier to deal with.

* * *

A/N: And there you are! The first chapter. PLEASE REVIEW!

I know this story is starting out less interesting or intriguing than the last one but . . . hang in there!


	2. A Proposition

A/N: This is the second chapter . . . as you can see. Thank you so much for the reviews on the last chapter! I see some like the prospect of a sequel and others don't but thats okay. Eh, its been five days, you guys can have another chapter. lol.

**Chapter 2: A Proposition**

The man stood surveying the streets of the Yamani town near the port where a new boat had just arrived. Most that came off the boat were not Yamani, needless to say, but he wasn't looking for most. He was looking for a certain one. Leon Tiroth had business here.

His companion—or perhaps that wasn't the right word, he shrugged—had made it clear who they were looking for. All he had to do was be vigilant enough to spot them.

The shorter man, not shorter by much, shifted next to him. Leon looked at him. His gaze was set intently. Leon looked. Ah, there she was, just as he had described her.

She was a fairly tall young woman. Her body willowy with just enough curves. Her thick hair was coal black and stick-straight. She held herself upright and somewhat proud. Her hazel eyes flitted here and there as if trying to take in everything at once. While her face was composed, her eyes gave away that she was excited.

She wore a green cotton shirt and brown sensible breeches. Across her person was a strung bow, perhaps it was easier to carry when it was strung.

Both of the young men near her were at least half a head taller than her.

The first one he noticed had dark hair, definitely not black when compared to the girl's. The hair flipped out and away from his head here and there as if it couldn't decide whether it wanted to be straight or not and simply wasn't long enough to choose. He had a wiry build and a mouth used to to smiling. His eyes were a sharp crystal blue.

The other young man was taller than the other two (only taller than the first youth by a very small margin). His face was held sternly and his hair was clipped close to his skull. From the hair that was there he could tell it would have been insufferably curly. This one was more broad shouldered with youthful muscles at his call. He looked slightly sick with a pale face. He owned the same crystal blue eyes but these looked out upon the world carefully.

A slow smile spread over Leon's face. He turned to his companion, "Are those them?"

He tore his fixed gaze away and looked down to the ground. His voice was barely a whisper, "Yes."

When Leon looked back the girl's afore darting hazel eyes were fixed on him. Had she noticed his stare? Her hazel eyes sparked with something before she turned away pointedly. Leon's eyebrows rose. Now, _she _was an interesting one.

"Are we following them or not, Zain?" Leon asked his companion. Zain turned and focused those damn eyes on him. Leon's jaw tightened. Zain was an alright sort of man, but those eyes of his . . . they weren't natural.

Zain was a half-breed, a hybrid of Yamani and non-Yamani. His skin was not really that dark but it was lightly tan, that came from the sun though, not his heritage. His hair was very dark brown and long enough that he kept it tied back in a braid.

But those eyes . . . the ones fixed on him now. They were out of place, even in his half-breed face. The odd very light gray that almost matched white and might have blended in with the rest of his eye if there wasn't a very dark gray outline to the iris.

Zain closed his eyes momentarily and Leon knew he was thinking. His eyes moved under the lids. Finally he opened them slowly and sighed. His voice still sounded unsure but resolute, "Yes, we'll follow them."

This time Leon grinned. That was why he traveled with Zain. Things were hardly ever dull with him and he had a feeling this would be anything but dull.

* * *

Iolana of Silver Crest—Lana for short—followed her two brothers who had walked ahead of her. Vincent had suggested, and rightly so, that they find an inn for Damien. While Damien was strong on land his stomach was incredibly weak over waters. 

They found one quickly and settled in. Lana was fully ready to be there for a day or two, just to give Damien time to rest.

She herself was buzzing with excitement. To be out on her own!

When she was younger stories had always been interesting. Especially the ones her mother told. She realized--somewhat later on—that most Queens did not usually spend so much time with their children, but her own mother seemed to make a point of it.

Her stories had always been the most interesting. Of course, her father tried and she loved him dearly, but the stories her mother told had something about them. Something that was missing from her father's. It was a few years she learned that the thing that was missing was that her mother had _lived_ those stories.

Lana wouldn't lie and say that that fact had nothing to do with her wanting to get out and find her own adventures. There was, after all, no use in denying truths.

Presently, Lana was sitting in the common room of the inn. She closed her eyes and listened to the sounds. The bustling of a maid. People chatting quietly. The door opening and then closing. Her eyes jerked open when a hand settled on her shoulder.

It was her youngest triplet, Vincent. "You aren't regretting this already, are you?" He didn't sound as if he thought she did.

She rolled her eyes as he took a seat at the table. They had forced Damien to eat something and go to bed already. "Of course I don't."

Vincent would have said something but two strangers walked up to their table.

One, the taller one, had short blond hair and light brown eyes. The second one was only a bit shorter. He was tanned and had long dark hair pulled into a braid. His eyes stood out on his face. Light gray with a dark gray border. Both men were handsome in their own rights.

Lana stifled a gasp but couldn't stop her eyes from widening. The blond one was the man who had been staring at her at the port! When had they even entered the inn? Why hadn't she noticed?

Suddenly Lana wanted to hit herself in the forehead. Maybe they entered while she had sat there with her eyes closed.

Almost as quickly as her eyes had widened with shock, her hazel eyes narrowed.

The blond man's mouth twitched with a smile as he took a seat casually. Lana noticed he spoke common, not Yamani. "So I see you remember me."

Lana flicked a glance towards Vincent who was glaring outright. All of them had been trained to fight by their Shang mother and Lana could see Vincent was tense just in case he would need that training now. _He would be just a touch rusty,_ she thought silently.

"What do you want?" Lana asked warily.

It was still the blond man who spoke, "We, my companion and I, have a proposition to make."

* * *

A/N: I realize this chapter is pretty short . . . the next few will be, sorry about that. But please don't let that stop you from sending a REVIEW! 


	3. A Stranger's Help?

A/N: Short, but it starts us on the path we are needing to go. Mmm . . . fun.

Thank you for the reviews on the last chapter!

**Chapter 3: A Stranger's Help?  
**

"We would like you to travel with us, or if you want we'll travel with you. Bottom line, our two groups should combine." The sitting man said.

"What reason have we to trust you?" Lana questioned. And she expected the answer from the blond man who was sitting with them as if he were an old friend. But it was the man with the odd eyes who answered her and he gave her an answer she wasn't sure she liked.

"I know what brought you here," He said, his voice eerily calm, "I can help."

That struck home. Lana swallowed. If he spoke of what she thought he did . . . could he really help?

Another part of her mind battled. How could he know? This was much to strange. She shouldn't trust him . . .her own brother didn't even know. How could this complete stranger know?

Lana found her eyes locked onto the light gray ones. She could not tear them away. Those eyes spoke too much of things that should not have been seen. It was the man who tore his gaze away and when he did Lana noticed her hear beating hard and fast. "You should not look too deeply into _my_ eyes. You may find a future you don't like."

"What are you talking about?" Vincent snapped.

Lana ignored her brother. Her voice came out quietly. "What are your names?"

The blond man reached for her hand and kissed it. "I am Leon Tiroth."

When he held her hand just a moment too long, Vincent interjected a cold smile on his lips. "Easy there, _Leon_."

His dark blond eyebrows rose. "And I take it you are with him?"

Lana snatched her hand from his hold. "He is my _brother_."

"Yes that will explain the protectiveness as well." Leon's smile was back. Lana kept her face straight. _He has not even _seen_ a protective brother yet. If Damien were here . . ._

"And I am Zain." Lana flicked her eyes to the man still standing. She could not get caught in his eyes again.

Lana thought for a moment, thrumming her fingers against the wood of the table as she usually did when she thought. "I go by Lana." When Vincent did not introduce himself Lana decided to do it for him, "and this is my brother, Vincent."

"Lana, what are you--" Vincent began a protest but she cut him off. She didn't know why but she knew these two wouldn't harm them for all they were strange.

"And there's my other brother, Damien, who is asleep at this time." In the silence that ensued, Lana took some of her pale green Gift and prodded the two men with it. Leon owned no magic she could feel and when she searched Zain he sneezed. Lana pulled her Gift back to herself. Zain spared her a look with the smallest of smiles playing at the corner of his lips showing a dimple on his left cheek.

He had some sort of magic but she couldn't tell what kind.

Lana swallowed. "All right, let's say that I trust the two of you. Why should we join the two of you or even the other way around?"

"We shouldn't." Vincent murmured but was quickly shushed by Lana.

Leon smiled. "Because we know the Yamani Isles better than the two of you and we can get you wherever you need to go."

"Better than a native Yamani could?" She asked.

"Just as good." Leon assured.

"Why?" Her voice was firm. There had to be a reason. If there wasn't, she would sell her right arm to the highest bidder. Whether they would tell her or not, she could only guess.

Leon shrugged. "You are an interesting lot and seem to be headed towards interesting things."

Once again silence followed as Lana thought it out. She was fully aware that Vincent was still sitting rigidly on her left. Both of these men were strange but intriguing. All instincts said she would be crazy to trust them. But then Zain's words replayed, _I know what you're looking for._ Did he know? Lana found herself asking again.

"I plan on leaving in a few days, not exactly sure when. We are staying until my other brother seems fit enough to leave. He doesn't do well on boats." Lana said.

Catching her agreement on their proposition Leon stood. "Until that time then."

Both of them walked out without another word. Zain stopped at the door and looked back towards Lana with those odd eyes.

"Lana," Vincent finally spoke. "What did you just do?"

"I think I just got us some traveling companions." She heard the words come from her mouth and she still couldn't believe they were true.

"Damien will be furious."

She sighed. "I know."

* * *

Damien massaged the bridge of his nose, "You _what_?" 

Lana and Vincent winced. To anyone else it would look like he was taking it relatively calm but they knew Damien better. He _was_ furious just as they had predicted.

"What could it hurt? To have guides help us find our way around the Isles?" Lana reasoned.

"_Guides_ that we know nothing about." Damien said tightly.

"Except for their names and those could even be fake." Vincent added.

Damien turned on him. "Oh, don't you start siding with me now. Why didn't you stop her? You were down there!"

Vincent snorted. "You make it sound like an easy thing. You know how she is."

At that they both turned on her. She smiled sheepishly. "So what it boils down to is, its my fault?"

"Exactly." The both of them said simultaneously. Lana sniffed, nonplussed.

"Fine. I take full responsibility for this, if anything bad comes from having them travel with us."

"Well, we won't have time to blame you if they kill us in our sleep," Vincent drawled with a crooked smile. Lana laughed.

"You and I both know if they are planning something like that, they have another thing coming." She wiped her eyes of the laughter tears. "There's no need to worry there."

The subject was dropped and the triad decided maybe they should rest up, all of them this time, if they planned on leaving in a day or two.

* * *

Lana woke up in the middle of the night. She couldn't remember her dream but she had a feeling it hadn't been bad. She sighed, there were reasons she didn't like to go to sleep early. 

Her body knew where it was going. She stood and went to her packs. When she reached the bottom she took out something wrapped in thick cloth and uncovered it. Lying there was a sword, pure milk-white. She touched the blade lightly.

Yes, it had been wrong that she'd taken it. But . . . the sword didn't seem to mind. In fact, it agreed. Lana jerked her hand away from the sword. How had she known that?

She swallowed a lump in her throat. Had that man Zain really been talking about the sword and the map she'd found? Or was it just her mind placing his words with something she knew?

Lana picked up the sword, it fit her hand perfectly and weighed little for all it looked heavy. She went into a few practice sweeps, ones she'd been taught in her childhood.

She didn't notice she was smiling. Smiling at the prospect that this Zain might be able to help her find a grand adventure.

* * *

A/N: Thats all I have for you today. Come back again in a week or so. And don't forget to send a _**REVIEW**_! They make me happy. well, most of the time.  



	4. View From Home

A/N: Sometimes I just don't understand. Though I guess I did warn you that it wouldn't be as good as SotNS.

**Chapter 4: View From Home  
**

Lana sat straight backed with her hands placed on crossed legs. She breathed deeply. Her Gift—the color of a peridot—swirled in her mind's eye. The flame rose, curled and turned this way and that. Lana brought it back down. _She _was the one in control here, not the other way around.

Her Gift settled and her mind was clear. She took in and released one last breath before opening her eyes. Lana liked to meditate in the mornings; it cleared her head for the day to come.

Lana walked downstairs with all of her packed bags slung over one shoulder where her brothers were waiting. In the Silver Crest family, having the Gift meant being born with early Awareness, but the special Gift only came to the females in the family. While neither of her brothers had the Gift they had been born with Awareness like her because they had been held in the same womb. She gave them a small smile.

The three of them walked out back to the stables together. Damien broke the silence first.

"How are they going to know we're leaving today?" He asked.

Lana shrugged. "If we leave without them it won't be on purpose," She patted his cheek. "I thought you didn't want them coming with us anyways, little brother."

He scowled. Both Vincent and Damien hated it when she brought the fact that she was older than them to attention.

"Hello, beauty," Lana cooed a greeting to her mount. He was a mahogany colored bay, his nose gently fading into white, his tale and mane cream colored. She had named him Flash for his quickness to learn as well as his swiftness. When she walked up to his stall, He turned his head away. He was mad at not being ridden for so long. First on the boat and then when they'd finally reached land.

Lana fished an apple she'd stolen from the common room of the inn and offered it to the stallion. He sniffed it momentarily before taking it quickly off of her hands. She smiled. After that he butted her face and was in light spirits which made it hard when trying to get a horse ready to ride.

Damien brought out a dapple grey mare. Everyone had been surprised that these two got along at all. His mare, Skyprancer or Sky for short, was an energetic horse. Their dispositions should have clashed but Damien loved the horse like none other.

Vincent had in tow a dark creme stallion named Moonbeam. Moonbeam was a calm a horse as they come. He was calm but alert. He also had pink skin and blue eyes. All three were trained warhorses and they would have gotten no less from their mother.

Lana strapped her bags to Flash, making sure her unstrung bow was tied on very well, and led him out of the stable. The whole way out he pressed his long snout to her cheek. She got the idea. She mounted and trotted around. She could feel his joy in his muscles under her. Riding for a few moments before her brothers exited the stable Lana smiled. None of them had picked up their mother's way of riding without a bridle though the Karucian calvary was better for learning it.

The three of them set out. Being on one of the smaller islands the port city was not that big but that had only gone through half of it when a brown and white painted mare blocked their path.

Lana looked up to find Zain, a whisper of a smile on his face. Leon came out from the other side of him grinning wide and not hiding it.

"And here we thought we'd be lucky enough to leave without the two of you." Vincent muttered from somewhere behind Lana. Lana's mouth twitched into a smile. Damien pulled up beside Lana and eyed the both of them.

"Zain and Leon," She pointed to each in turn, "This is my brother Damien."

Zain inclined his head in greeting while Leon looked at Damien full on. It was like that for a few moments before Lana laughed suddenly. All the men looked at her and she shook her head, "I'm sorry to break this stare-contest but I'd like to be in a new town by sunset."

She steered Flash around the painted mare and around Leon's dark gelding. She rode forward and didn't look back, clearly expecting those who were coming, to follow.

Zain blinked and Leon commented, "She sure is odd. I rather like that."

Damien's light blue eyes flashed. "My sister is off limits to the likes of you."

"We'll s—"

"Well!" Vincent interjected with a smile. "We better catch her or she'll be in the next town over while the two of you are still here bickering." With that he followed the same path Lana had used to get through the small crowding of horses.

She was already reaching the end of the city by the time they had become a full group again. All of a sudden, Lana stopped. "Which way are we headed?"

Vincent too stopped, "You mean _you_ don't know?"

"I would've thought, considering," Leon put in motioning back towards the city. "You seemed to know where you were going."

Lana laughed again. "All that proves is I would have made a grand Player."

Lana heard a muffled sound to her right. She looked over to find Zain covering his mouth and looking away. Was he . . . laughing? She smiled. Zain forced himself to calm down before saying, "This is one of the small islands, not many people live on it, there won't be a city for a while considering we're going southeast."

"This should be fun then. And Damien don't give me that look. " Lana said.

* * *

Liam took the plate of food from the maid giving her permission to leave. When he walked into one of the small (well smaller) dining areas Arra was already there and seated as he had requested of her. His footsteps were silent. When he got closer he set the food down in front of his wife and sat in the chair to the left of her. 

"Eat." He ordered.

"I'm not hungry, Liam," Arra replied evenly.

He fixed his eyes on her, "Maybe you don't _feel_ hungry but what had your body got to work with?" He paused to let it sink in. "What has got you off of your meals this time? Is it the triplets? You--"

"I know!" She snapped. She took a deep breath. "I know, _I'm_ the one that didn't want to go and snatch them back. I know. But its not only that. There's the flooding down by the southwestern cape and the revolts breaking out in the northern areas. And . . ." She stopped.

"And?" He pushed.

"And Joel's coming." Arra finished with a grimace.

"Why is he coming?" Liam asked rather calmly, grabbing an orange from a bowl in the middle of the table and peeling it. Well, he _looked_ calm enough.

"Have you not heard the rumors?" She asked. "From Tusaine?"

Liam's dark eyebrows rose. "I did not know our ears stretched that far."

Arra shrugged, a shrug that answered as much as it didn't. "I have caught wind of certain matters."

"And they have to do with Joel?" Liam finished peeling the orange and broke it in half. She had hoped that he had heard before now, that she wouldn't have to be the one to tell him.

"Lianne married the present King of Tusaine, didn't she?" Arra started slowly. Liam, who had just put a slice of the orange in his mouth, chewed slowly, nodding. His eyebrows were knit together, wondering what she was getting at. "Well, ah, Joel's been spending a lot of time in Tusaine . . ."

Liam's hazel eyes flashed. He seemed to have caught her implied meaning.

"Lianne," He groaned. "What stupid thing have you done now?"

Arra sighed and reached for his hand, putting her two smaller ones around it. "We don't know she's done anything yet, and I pray what the rumors say has been happening really isn't."

He fixed his eyes on her again. She had tried to comfort him now it was time for the roles to switch. "The flooding and revolts are not directly your problem, not yet. It'll be alright. I'll see to it. And the children?"

"I've scryed for them." She nodded. Liam knew, he always knew when she worked magic thanks to a wound he'd gotten years ago on the back of his head. "Their in the Yamani Isles, but thats all I can tell. You know my scrying has never been my strong point."

"Can't you get someone else to—" But he stopped when Arra shook her head and gave him a look.

"Liam, you should know better than that by _now_. This Gift is undetectable by anyone who doesn't share it it, meaning anyone who isn't in the direct line." She said.

Liam nodded solemnly. "It was just a father's hope for his stray children, I guess."

"Speaking of children, where's Emereth?" Liam shrugged. "I'll find him, his studies aren't done for the day just yet."

Liam watched Arra leave the room, placing another piece of the orange into his mouth. It wasn't until a few moments later that he realized she hadn't eaten any of the food he had brought her.

* * *

Lana rolled her eyes. _Men_, she thought disgustedly,_ always have to make things more confusing._ They had stopped for the night, they had gone to far south on the island so that when they had voted to go to the next nearest town, they became stuck between them. 

Zain and Leon had separated into a smaller camp away from the triad. Lana closed her eyes to calm herself. It had rained lightly the day before and she knew they would have trouble starting a fire. She also wanted to put up a shield, and if she was going to put one up, she'd rather put it up around them _all_.

"Are you two in or out?" She called over the small distance between them. If she alerted bandits, let them come. She would only blame it on Leon and Zain.

Zain gave her and questioning look.

"I'm going to set up a shield, you two will either be inside of it or outside of it, decide now." She stood and walked over to Flash who was tethered with Sky and Moonbeam. She searched for her magic working tools. Lana was glad to hear the two had moved closer.

She searched the ground and looking for some good sized stones. When she found five she eyed the place they would be making camp and made a fine perimeter around it. Lana placed the stones a good, equal distance from each other. The second time around she made connections between the stones with water, the third time with some crushed herbs and the final time she used her Gift to create the final shield, murmuring the spells for it all the while.

When it was all done she took a seat with the rest of them.

"How strong is your shield?" Leon asked.

Lana thought for a moment. Considering the properties of her family inherited Gift—it couldn't be detected—it was very good for making shields. She shrugged, "Anyone passing will not see us or anything out of the ordinary, all they will see is a normal part of the forest. If they come too close they will have the sudden thought to turn away."

Leon raised his brows, "I see we have a mage among us. I did not know you had the Gift."

Lana shrugged again. "Its not something people usually say when they introduce themselves. Does it bother you?"

Leon shook his head.

Vincent was the first one to turn in for the night's rest. Leon came next. Damien seemed like he wanted to go to sleep but stayed up to watch the two still looking wide awake. Lana decided to say nothing and wait it out. Finally with one last glare towards Zain, he went to his bedroll.

* * *

Zain looked up to catch the end of Damien's glare. It would be just the two of them then. He didn't much feel like sleeping. Dreams often brought visions of things that weren't pleasant. He looked over at Lana. She didn't look tired in the least. She must have lived off an endless store of energy. 

Her hazel eyes were fixed on the embers that still gave off heat and burned a low, barely blue fire.

It was she who spoke first, "Do you have family on the Isles?"

Zain blinked. He had not expected that question. He had thought maybe she stayed up long enough to catch him alone to ask about his . . . obscure message on their first meeting. At his prolonged silence she looked up at him. He cleared his throat, "No, the only family I had, my mother, died years ago." After a moment he felt he should add (and did), "I never knew my father."

Lana gave him a gentle smile, "You talk like it matters whether or not you knew your father."

He cocked his head to one side ever so slightly. She was an odd creature. "And your family?"

At that she grinned. "I have three brothers, counting those two, and no sisters. My parents--" Suddenly she stopped. "I'm sorry."

"For?"

"Me, rattling on about my family." She said.

"Well, I did ask." He put in. She was obviously ashamed that it seemed she had been flaunting her finely equipped family against his non-existent one. But, oddly enough, he hadn't minded listening. She radiated her joy like the sun radiated light and heat. It was nice. A slow smile spread over her face. Zain found he liked it when she smiled.

_Look at me_, He scolded himself silently,_ acting like a love-struck child._ Zain noticed she fingered something that hung on a leather thong around her neck. Before he could stop himself he found himself asking, "What's that?"

She motioned what was in her hand and he nodded. She slipped it off over her head and handed it to him. He took it gently, carefully. It looked like a piece of white colored glass. On it in precise black, engraved letters read, _THREE_.

"Years, years ago my family and I visited the ocean. Damien, Vincent and I found a piece of—well we never really found out what it was but we thought it was interesting so we kept it. We cut it into three parts using my Gift and each of us has one." Lana explained.

"Not one for your third brother?"

Lana shook her head. "There are things that go on between triplets that no one else can understand or join in, this was one of them."

Zain nodded. He hadn't known they were triplets, but it seemed to fit considering he could almost feel the bond they shared. He traced his finger over the word, the one word carved into the stone like piece. "Three." He read aloud.

"Its something between us. The beginning of a saying of ours." She smiled a soft smile of remembering.

Zain handed the token back. It was hanging around her neck almost at once. Silence followed as Lana brought her focus back to the dying fire. Her voice still came even as her eyes never left the embers, "I suppose you knew I would ask."

"Hm?"

Lana turned to him again. "Back at the inn. You said something about knowing what brought me herer."

"I did." He said and sighed. Yes, he had known she would ask. At the sound of his sigh, Lana's hazel eyes snapped to him.

"Never say anything you don't want to, to me." She said. There was no commanding or snapping tone in her voice. Once again Zain found himself baffled. First she inquires, then tells him not to say anything.

"You look tired." She stated.

Zain shook his head. "I'm fine. And what about you?"

She smiled. "If I go to sleep now I'll still be awake before the others so it doesn't matter to me really. I only need a few hours of sleep to be fully rested."

They talked for an hour more before she decided it was about time to catch some sleep of her own and she strongly suggested he sleep to. Just as she laid down in her bedroll--which was near her two brothers--Zain realized how comforting it had been having another being with him into the late hours of the night.

Sleep would be comforting too, a part of his mind reminded him. _Not likely_. Sleep brought dreams and dreams often held pictures and futures and lives he had never wanted to know.

* * *

A/N: There we are. The fourth chapter. I put it out because I had it. I'm considering just deleting the story but . . . I don't know. 

Please review.


	5. Another Town, Another Surprise

A/N: Thank you all soooo much for the reviews! I love them.

Cereal: not the best inspiration food out there, but it gets the job done.

**Chapter 5: Another Town, Another Surprise  
**

Lana took both noses and pinched hard and held. In a just few short seconds, her brothers sat up gasping for air. They started to grouch and complain but she silenced them, "Hush!" She whispered harshly, "The three of us have gotten lazy since we left Karucia. Now come on, get up."

Vincent and Damien rose, Vincent with more groaning.

"You lazies!" She hissed in good humor. "And keep quiet, Zain and Leon are still asleep."

"Lucky," Vincent commented quietly.

Lana went to her packs to find new clothes to wear for the day. She looked over as she pulled brown breeches and an undyed cotton shirt. What she had meant to be a glance turned into a stare as she caught Zain's sleeping form. Some of his dark brown hair escaped its hold and stuck to his face with what she thought might be sweat. He twitched and his eyes fluttered. His clothes were twisted on him, probably from tossing and turning. Because of that his sleeves had come up to reveal bandages that covered all of his forearm.

Lana might have investigated further but she heard two voices.

"Iolana," Vincent said in an annoying tone.

"Would you mind taking down the shield?" Damien finished.

Lana murmured a quick spell, ended it with, "So mote it be!" and a clap of her hands.

The shield vanished. She left where the protective circle had been—scuffing the line of herbs with her foot—and changed. Upon finding her brothers she realized they were waiting for her. They had gone a ways from their campsite.

She scowled at her two brothers standing idle, "You know how to stretch!"

And with that, their morning practice commenced.

Zain and Leon were awake when they finally finished. Everything on their campsite was packed up (the triplets had put away their belongings before their morning practice) and a fire had been started.

"Do you do that every morning?" Leon asked.

"When I can wake them up." Lana responded. Something nudged her back. Flash was awake too and he had broken the tether. "Oh, you horrible beast!" But her voice was soft and not angry at all as she petted his nose.

"You spoil him too much," Vincent said, "Its a wonder he's not a show-horse."

Lana shrugged, "He'd be too bored."

The men watched as Lana tugged what was left of the tether, whispering things to her faithful—well usually faithful—mount. She pulled him along back to the small crowd of horses. Leon frowned.

"Does she think the horse will understand her?"

Vincent looked up and gave a noncommittal shrug.

Leon didn't seem satisfied, he tried something more specific, "So, I take it she likes animals?" He made it a question.

Surprisingly, it was Damien who spoke, "She cares about anything that can breath."

The two brothers shared a look and then looked away, both shaking their heads in perfect unison, a small smile one Vincent's face. Their eyes were lost in memory. Leon expected them to say something, but they never did. He looked over to Zain to see if he had thought the same thing, but Zain, too, was lost somewhere else. By the look in his eyes, it couldn't be too grand.

Quick as a whip, both brothers left their trance-like state. Damien turned to begin the breakfast preparations.

Lana didn't know what she expected to see when she came back, but a group of men sitting together quietly was definitely not on the list. Damien was peacefully making breakfast, Vincent talking to him in quiet tones. _Even if it _is_ somewhat rude!_ Lana thought, feeling just a small edge of frustration. What could she tell her brothers to make them . . . open up? These seemed like nice people!

_Nothing, I can do nothing, not really._ She shook her head silently.

Lana wanted to say that Zain looked peaceful, sitting quietly off to one side of their party. But she noticed his somewhat haunted stare he gave to nothing in particular. Immediately her eyes flicked to his arms that she had noticed before but they were well and fully covered now. She knew better than to bring it up.

Finally her eyes settled on Leon. He reclined back on his elbows as easily if he were lounging on a couch. One leg was bent while the other stretched forward. His face was turned upward eyes closed. Involuntarily her eyes glided back down the length of his body and when she came back to his face again one of his light brown eyes was open and his lips turned up in a slight smirk.

Lana's face burned. He had been _posing_! She turned away from him with a glare and sat near her brothers.

Leon sat up after he received the sought after response. "Shouldn't you be making the breakfast?"

Lana sat up a little straighter and raised her brows. "Are you referring to me?"

"Yes."

She shrugged and settled back into a comfortable position. "I will not be making every meal. It's good for a man to know how make something, _anything_. That way they won't need to be solely dependent on women," She smiled, "gods know women aren't solely dependent on men."

He took his own turn to raise his brows. "You believe that don't you?"

"I don't go around spouting things I don't believe."

Leon opened his mouth to say something else. Lana, feeling the first stirrings of anger, silently dared him to say something else. But no words came from the blond haired man because Vincent intervened with one of his usual smiles. "Lets see, where are we headed today?"

"You already know where we are headed, Vincent." A thread of anger had worked its way into her voice.

"Really?" Vincent's smile was still in place but his eyes told her a different message. "Calm down."

Lana was furious with herself. She had risen to the bait and let herself get angry. Stupid, stupid! She took a deep breath and released it slowly. "Yes, really."

Silence followed. Vincent seemed to have used more energy than he had at that moment because his smile fell and he yawned. Leon after his first show of spark, had drawn back, silently. After a few minutes Lana didn't know how much more silence she could handle.

"If the lot of you are going to be this silent every morning, I don't know what I'll do." Lana said.

"Mithros," Leon said as if he'd just realized something in horror, "she's a morning person isn't she?"

Vincent shook his head slowly with a small laugh, "If only we were that lucky."

"What do you mean."

It was Damien who answered. "She's an all-day person."

Lana frowned. "You make it sound like a bad thing."

Leon looked somewhat confused. "What do you mean by an 'all-day person'?"

"It means, any time of the day and she'll be just as bright and chipper as she is right now." Vincent said. As if to help his point Lana smiled, but it stretched to a grin. Vincent shook his head. "A horribly unnatural thing, that."

Lana found a very small pebble and threw it at him, effectively hitting him on the forehead.

"Ow!"

"I am _not_ unnatural. Your just very _lazy_." She smiled and seemed pleased with herself.

Vincent rubbed his forehead. "That hurt, you know."

"Good. If your feelings are still hurting later feel free to try to get me back."

"Oh, I will."

Lana's laughter made Zane's gaze slide slowly to her, as if he was finally waking up and seeing his surroundings. But she didn't notice. He just shook his head and rubbed his eyes.

* * *

Lana was tightening one of the straps when something nudged her upper thigh. She looked down to find one horse sniffing eagerly at her pants. She laughed and reached into her pocket pulling out an apple, "And I'd gotten this far without it being noticed." 

"I'm sorry." Zain mumbled trying to get his mounts attention.

"No need to be sorry," She held the apple out to the horse who took it delicately. "Does she have a name?"

"What makes you think its a female?" He asked.

Lana shrugged. "Sorry for assuming--"

"No, no, you were correct. I just wanted to know why you thought she was female and not male." Zain said. "Nezumi, her name is Nezumi."

Lana stroked down the long snout. "Nezumi, mouse. She's lovely." Just as she said it Flash turned and butted her with his own head and huffed, as if trying to remind her of the task at hand: him. She turned to him with a scowl. "Oh, you jealous thing."

She spared one last apologetic smile to Zain as if to say she couldn't ignore Flash for too long, or she'd pay the consequences.

Within the hour they were ready and set off on the road. Lana had conceded to not knowing where they were going exactly whereas Leon took lead. No one argued, though her brothers seemed to want to (mostly Vincent), just to have anything to fight about.

Lana fell back in their traveling line, pleased just to watch her brothers hold a conversation with Leon even if she couldn't hear what they were saying. And even if she was fairly sure their tone would, if she was lucky, barely border civilized.

Zain ended up beside her. With his silence, she could almost forget he was there except for Nezumi's footfalls. As if feeling her gaze he looked up, "You did not say you could speak Yamani."

Lana was startled by the suddenness of it. "How would you know whether or not I speak Yamani?"

"You knew nezumi meant 'mouse'." He said as if it explained it all.

"What if it was one random word I knew among a few others?" She asked innocently.

It would be around this point that anyone else would have shown some sign of frustration. But Zain kept his cool, his calm never faltered. "_Do_ you speak Yamani?"

Lana thought about that for a moment. Then deciding the truth was often better than not answered, "I know enough to carry a conversation. I understand more than I speak."

Emotions passed over his face before he turned his face away. The strongest expression she caught: confusion.

"Have I done something wrong, Zain?"

"No." The word was short, soft. She expected him to continue but he left it at that. She leaned over in the saddle as far as she could trying to catch a glimpse of his face.

"Tell me. I'm sorry whatever I have done, but I would like to know." Lana's words were gentle but carefully neutral.

He let out a breath. She could see his profile now, he was smiling and barely shaking his head. Even as small as his smile was the dimple on his left cheek showed. It was the kind of dimple that would have left a crease or wrinkle on his face if he smiled too much. Something told her he didn't smile enough for that. But the smile he wore now spoke of something only he could understand, something no one else would fine amusing. She didn't bother to ask.

As suddenly as before he turned his very light gray eyes to her. Her breath caught in her throat. Distantly, she was sure she should be embarrassed for being caught staring but she couldn't bring herself to be. Or rather she couldn't tear her eyes away.

Lana realized she had been wrong the day before when she'd thought he was handsome. His looks didn't allow handsome, not really. He was . . . beautiful. She would never say it aloud, no man took being called 'beautiful' well. She swallowed and let out a shaky breath. She hadn't expected to be hit so suddenly by his looks.

Lana couldn't name exactly what it was. His dark hair pulled back into a tight braid that could be confused with black if they hadn't had her hair to compare it to, the dimple showing on his left cheek, the look in his eye, or any number of facial features but it was true. He was beautiful.

A frown formed between his brows. "Are you well?"

She blinked. Surely he was used to getting looks like the one she was sure was on her face at this moment. _Maybe he's trying to be kind to my pride._ Though a very small thought said, maybe he isn't used to getting looked at like this. To which another part of her mind questioned, why not?

She nodded to his question, not willing to trust her voice at that moment. Lana even mustered up a smile to prove her point.

Zain shook his head as if to rid himself of some unwanted or unwelcome thought.

* * *

When they finally reached the town Lana found it was not much bigger than the one they had left the day before. Except this one had less businesses and more homes. There was one inn in the entire village. They had settled down at the inn with enough day left for Lana's thoughts and plans to get away with her. 

Presently, she sat contented as a cat after a pitcher of milk. Two full servings of food and the sluggishness that usually came with a full belly settled on her.

Leon looked at her with a slight look of disgust, Zain: somewhat surprised but nothing else. Her brothers seemed more amused by the two men's reactions than anything else.

Leon spoke first, "Where does she put it all?"

Lana laughed. She stood without answering and stretched. She took one last gulp of her drink. "Well, boys, I'm off."

"Where?" Damien made it a standard question.

"Out of here." She said simply, "Out those doors and you can't stop me from that."

"Why?" Damien pushed on.

Lana rolled her eyes with a sigh. "Because what is the point of going to another place if you don't plan to . . . soak up the atmosphere?"

Damien let out a sigh of his own. "Just wait a moment and let one of us go with you."

Lana had a feeling that by 'one of us' he meant either Vincent or himself. Lana shook her head. "No, thank you. I'm quite alright." She smiled. "I'll only be taking a small stroll. Then tomorrow one of you can come with me."

"Tomorrow?" Vincent said. "We aren't leaving?"

"I wasn't planning on it." Lana answered. "We don't have a specific destination, its alright if we laze a bit."

Not waiting for any particular answer Lana nodded and left the inn without another word.

Outside Lana listened to the sounds. The wind blowing over the city roofs. Children laughing. Mother's scolding voices. Footsteps. Not too far ahead she could hear harsher voices but unless she concentrated she wouldn't be able to translate. Lana looked up at the sky, surprised in spite of herself that her brothers hadn't already followed her anyways.

Without noticing it, Lana had walked a fair distance. She turned around ready to walk back when something caught in her peripheral vision. Something moved, it was small and dark. Lana came close, walking between homes and bent towards it. When she touched it, it made noises of protest.

Lana looked upon it, "Oh, my."

* * *

A/N: Reviews would be helpful and appreciated! Thank you very very much! 


	6. Questions of the Unanswered Kind

A/N: Oh, geez. What can I say? School's been shoving work at me and I'm really really sorry! I had no time whatsoever to write. The week before spring break I had to work on a research paper (gag!) and a project and loads of other crap in between and I sill have a project due after spring break. This may not seem like a lot but for me, it is. And for the beginning of spring break I was visiting my sisters . . . and she lives six hours away. SO! I am really sorry this is late and . . . well . . . there's not much more I can say. please read and enjoy!

**Chapter 6: Questions of the Unanswered Kind**

The door closed with Lana still standing there. Not rude exactly but definitely not polite. There weren't that many homes in the town, surely one of them would know who it-he-she, belonged to? Lana growled her frustration wordlessly but quickly hushed as the bundle snug in her arms started to squirm.

"Oh! I'm sorry! Sorry!" She cried in a whisper hoping to calm the child. The baby continued to whimper but nothing else. She bounced the small child just a little as she continued to walk down the street back towards the inn. _Vincent and Damien will not be happy with me at all.  
_

_

* * *

_

The more often than not, unused corridor stretched for yards and yards. Paintings and hangings decorated almost every space along the walls without looking too crowded. Emereth stopped at one and sat down at the opposite wall to look at it.

A pure white horse, except for the legs, which were black from each knobby knee down, reared. The rider had perfect control, the face not showing shock or fear. The hand that faced the looker-on grasped a silver gleamed sword while the other went up into the sky in a closed fist. On the fist a distinctly blue falcon perched, wings outstretched to their full glory. Both occupied hands showed she held no bridle.

A deep blue cloak billowed out around the rider's form and falling partly onto the horse. Dark wavy hair fell partly down the blue cloak while some of it flew out from the face as if the rider had whipped her head around in a moment. A perfect delicate crown of jewels sat atop those waves.

Crystal blue eyes looked out from a lightly tanned yet elegant face. They were stern and serious, lips held firm in a no-nonsense way.

The painting had been done by one of the most famous artists in all of Karucia. He had meant for it to be an honorable gift which showed all of their wonderful Queen's attributes. Strong, beautiful, ready for anything, etcetera, etcetera . . .He had thought, as many of the artists who had contributed their own masterpieces, that _all_ kings and queens loved to look at themselves. So what better gift that something that showed them and in the best light possible to boot?

As the story goes (because he had not been born yet as this had taken place in the first year of their reign), she had accepted it gracefully, as a queen should. After that however, Liam had had to convince her not to throw it away or burn it.

Arra had never really elaborated as to why she didn't like the painting. She would simply say she didn't like it and that would be that. She was "kind" enough to put it upon royal walls but she put it in a hallways she personally hardly ever used. Other artworks were held in the same respect also took home in the hallway.

Emereth liked it though. He had studied it and studied it and could find nothing wrong with it. Nothing that would be offending. So why did his mother dislike it? He had even gone to ask her himself.

He remembered that conversation perfectly, perhaps because it was so short. After he had asked, she had looked into nothingness before turning to him and looking at him for long moments. Finally she let out a long sigh and answered,

"It shows to the world the part of me I dislike." And that was all she said on the matter.

After that, Emereth had studied it again. With that answer surely he would find something. What had she disliked? When he had asked her she had given him a seemingly straightforward answer. But . . .

Had it been the weapon? No, she loved to fight, he had seen the joy in her eyes before. The bird? No, if stories were true he had existed at one point and she had loved him too. Emereth had a few fractured memories of a bright blue falcon but nothing detailed. The horse? No, she had loved her trustworthy mount.

Then what?

Emereth raked his fingers through his hair and sighed. Sometimes his mother was as straightforward as anyone he had ever met and other times she retreated to be as vague as a fortuneteller.

He looked up at the portrait again and saw a younger version of his mother's face looking down at him. The artist had captured Arra's look so well, Emereth could feel a taste of his mother's gaze just looking at it.

The prince dusted himself off with jerky movements. He had not come back to this painting in some time. What had him in this thoughtful mood on this day?

He shook his head. He knew exactly what it was.

Arra's tension. Liam's worry. Both because of the triplet's absence. The negotiations with the Yamanis. . . . Though that last one had been on his mind for the past three or so years as it affected who he would marry.

Someone coughed from a little ways away from him. Emereth jumped in surprise. Sometime during his thoughts someone had snuck up on him.

The person filled the last few steps but Emereth had realized who it was by the red hair held back in a horsetail. With every step he took the large sword he carried clinked. Emereth was already smiling by the time the shorter man came to stand by him.

Andrew of Emeraldpeak, Commander of the Army was the kind of man with the presence to make anyone smile. Perhaps that is what made him good at his job. Throw off whoever he's talking to with his boyish face and easy smile and catch them off guard. But the most observant person would notice the hardness of his blue eyes that looked so out of place on him.

"I come here too sometimes." He stated.

"Why?"

Andrew—Andy as he preferred—shrugged. "Why do you?"

"To think." He answered shortly.

"About your mother's thought process?" Andy guessed with a grin.

Emereth couldn't help but grin back. "Sometimes."

"Well, I'd give up on that. Not only is she royal, she's a woman. They always think differently from others." The red-haired man said turning his attention to the painting.

"Who? Women or Royalty?"

"Both."

"I'm Royal you know."

"And when your time comes as King, you'll have to promise that you'll make every decision with good reason. Or at least reasoning that makes sense." Andy said.

Emereth smiled. "What if the reasoning makes sense to me but not to others?"

Andy shrugged again. "That will be for you to determine and decide what to do from there, not mine."

"Lot of help you are."

"I've been telling your mother that for years but she insists I stay. Can't understand it." Emereth laughed at that. Andy was an important asset to the kingdom, no jest.

As they start walking down the hall Emereth tries for a question. "Has Mother always been like this?"

"Like what?"

"Well . . . " The general idea of what he meant seemed clear in his head, but putting it to words was hard. He gave up and shook his head.

"Do you mean before she was Queen?"

Emereth wanted to say no, thats not what he meant. But he wouldn't have been able to explain what he _did_ mean anyways. This was better than nothing. He nodded and said, "Yes."

Andy didn't speak for a while. Finally, "I think she has tried her hardest not to change. Not to be like all the others." He paused for so long Emereth thought he might be done, but he waited anyways. "I don't think she realizes that some changes aren't bad, that some come with age."

Emereth held back a sigh. Andy's answers were hardly straightforward, and this was as straightforward as he got. Usually, he had more than one meaning to his words, no matter how straightforward it sounded. Emereth tucked the words away into his memory, he'd try to pick apart the complete meaning later.

Emereth's stomach growled suddenly. Andy laughed, wiping off the serious look on his face and replacing it with the smile, "Let's go beg some food off of the cooks."

"They hate it when we do that."

"All the more fun!" Andy said smiling and patting Emereth's back.

They had already exited the hallway with the many pictures and turned onto another one before Emereth realized another thing that had been on his mind. Why did people oh, so carefully not talk about the triplets? Was there some secret rule about it no one had told him yet?

Another thought hit him. Did they think that by talking about it _he_ would want to run away, too? _That _was a crazy thought. This was more something the three of them would do anyways. Or at least he thought so. He had no great compelling urge to run away from home. It sounded fun and exciting, but anything that _sounded_ like that usually had a downside. Not a pleasant one either.

* * *

Lana grinned sheepishly. Damien covered his face with his hands, shaking his head. "I knew I should have come with you. I just knew it."

"Are you saying you would have left her there?" Lana said, it had been confirmed the baby was in face a girl.

"Yes! NO! Maybe—I don't know! But we probably wouldn't have even seen it if I'd been there." He said. Vincent, Leon and Zain looked onto their conversation silently.

"And that would have been better? To leave _her_," She emphasized the gender because Damien refused to, "out there until Goddess knows when? She could have died."

"That wouldn't have been our fault."

"She's our—mine I guess. She's my responsibility now. I can't leave her there." Damien opened his mouth but Lana continued. "I already checked different houses, none of them want to claim her."

On cue, the child in question wails. Lana sends on last fierce look before turning her attention to the baby.

"A baby! Can you believe it? I always expect a stray dog, half dead cat, rabid bear even a half-crazed man that wants to kill us! But no. A baby." Damien ranted and seethed, quietly though.

"Does she do things like this often?" Leon asked.

"Yes." Vincent and Damien answered automatically.

* * *

Lana found that she only had to ask for certain items and the maids would do their best to try and find them, especially after seeing the very cute child.

Damien walked into Lana's room just as she placed a pillow on one side of the sleeping baby and a cover over the small form.

Damien sighed. "You can't keep it you know."

"I know," Lana said softly.

"I mean i—what?"

"I said, I know," She smiled at him. "I'm not stupid. We didn't come all the way here to be weighted down by a baby."

Damien opens his mouth then closes it and nods. "And I know you don't really want to be this little one's mother. If your wish had been to have children, you would have stayed home and waited to be married off to some prince."

Lana put some of her black hair that had escaped behind her ear and gave him a look. "We _are_ going back, you know. That fate isn't wiped from our futures."

"I know. I'm just saying that if that had been what you wanted, you would have stayed and gotten it sooner." Damien smiled, something he rarely did. "So, it seems you've already come to terms with this. Have any plans?"

She let out a whoosh of air. "Not entirely."

Damien nodded and exited.

Lana knelt beside the baby. One tiny pudgy hand plunged into the mouth. Dark, thin, fluffy hair adorned the top of the child's round fleshy head. The slanted eyes she knew were dark stayed closed in sleep. Nobody would doubt this was a Yamani baby.

Tears brim her hazel eyes. How could someone leave a child like that? _Why_ would someone do that? What could possess someone to just abandon some poor defenseless baby like that? Lana pressed her sleeve to the edges of her eyes to soak up the tears before they fell. How many people had passed by and not noticed? How long would it have been if she had not come?

Lana shook her head. Didn't matter, it really didn't matter now. Lana would make sure this baby had the best care possible, if not with someone else, then she would take it upon herself.

* * *

A/N: I read the book, A Child called "it" this weekend and . . . wow. Its sad when you think about it but while your reading it all you can think is HORRIBLE HORRIBLE HORRIBLE! How can anyone treat their child like that? I have no clue. Sorry sorry, I'm starting to rant . . . but seriously, sad book. I don't usually read books like that but my sister recommended it to me.

Anyways! Before I get started on that rant again I'll change direction. . Please REVIEW! And thank you all soooooooooooo much for your reviews on the last chapter!

(REVIEW!)


	7. New Island, New City

A/N: My way of apology for the long wait for the last chapter, I updated in less than a week. I'm not sure when the next one will be out because spring break is over and . . . ug . . . school is beginning again. (And I even made it longer than the other chapters!) I'm not the brightest, so school can get in the way, thank you for understanding. :)

**Chapter 7: New Island, New City**

It took a few day for thoughts and plans to be situated. But finally they—no,maybe it was Lana who had ordered that they go to the Mother of Waters convent. And since she would only accept the best, they had to go to one of the main islands.

With help from the maids Lana fastened a sort of sling for the baby. But somehow the thought of getting saddling her horse with the baby in the sling and then actually mounting didn't seem to foolproof. Flash looked at her expectantly, stamping his feet. Lana then saw her solution walking by.

"Zain!" He turned his head to her at the sound of his name. She pushed the baby cradled in her arms toward him. "Will you please carry her?"

He blinked. "I don't--"

"Oh, please!" She begged. "I just want to saddle my horse and mount then you can pass her to me again. I would give her to one of my brothers but they would only complain the whole time and tell me that I should be lucky they are so nice. Please?"

"W-what about Leon?" He asked, voice still as soft as ever and careful.

"Leon—well he doesn't seem like the kind. . ." She shook her head. "I think we both know that isn't going to happen."

One of the plus sides to have the small bundle of joy around was Leon seemed to avoid her with something much like disgust. He didn't seem to mind doing anything to make a child but the thought of an actual child set him off. Lana shook her head.

"Please?"

Zain flicked his gaze to hers for a moment before smiling grimly and setting off his dimple. He sighed. "Alright. It won't be my fault if it breaks."

"She! She, she, she!" Lana said, exasperated. "_She_ has a gender and that gender just so happens to be female! SHE!"

That twitched a real smile out of him. "Hand her to me."

Lana settled her in Zain's arms, placing his hands in the correct spot for holding and supporting everything. Lana readied Flash in record time. She surprised herself so much that she had to be sure she had not done something wrong in her haste which ended up taking just as much time if she had just done it slowly.

She mounted. Finally ready she turned back to Zain. She caught him looking down at . . . at . . . saying 'the baby' didn't seem right. It felt too impersonal. But Damien had forbidden any other kind of name thinking Lana would get too attached. Which sadly, was probably true.

Tiny as she was, the baby gurgled and gooed loud while flailing her small arms. Zain put out one of his fingers which she grasped immediately. Lana had gotten a healer to look at the child. The healer said she was at least three months old, and healthy enough. Healthy enough because, as she said, babies are supposed to have plenty of baby fat and this one had used some of it for survival.

Three months? Who could keep a child for that long and then drop it off? But there had to have been something else, had to have been. A day or two isn't enough time to waste away a healthy amount of baby fat and by then she would have started crying loudly enough for someone to notice, surely. So . . . had she been malnourished to begin with?

Lana dropped the questions from her mind like hot burning coals. And just like hot burning coals she was sure they would start a fire, one of rage if she continued to dwell on them. So she didn't.

"Lana?" Zain's voice snapped her from her thoughts.

She refocused her eyes and threw on a smile. She unclenched her fist reminding herself she wouldn't let those thoughts bother her.

"Lana!" Vincent called. "If you actually plan on going through with this you better speed it up. The boat may just leave soon!"

Lana sighed and muttered something about 'brothers' before holding out her hands to Zain. He lifted the baby up carefully, causing her to squirm a little bit and cry out. Lana took hold and settled the baby against her own body in the sling. When Lana turned to try and thank Zain he was already walking away. Just as he stepped around the building Damien and Vincent pulled up beside her.

Zain reappeared with his horse, Nezumi. He was shaking his head and saying something to Leon, who was on the other side of him. He stopped talking and shook his head harder. Then Zain stopped all together and gave his full attention to Leon. Lana didn't know if he said anything because his head was turned away from her but whatever he did seemed to stop the conversation because he mounted Nezumi and rode up to meet the rest of the part. After a while so did Leon.

Lana turned to her brothers before Zain and Leon caught up with them. She opened her mouth to speak.

"Drop it." Damien said instantly, before she could get a word out.

Lana closed her mouth with a scowl. Then, "Drop what?"

"That is Zain and Leon's business, not ours." Vincent said in that swinging, sing-song voice he used for almost anything.

"And how do you know I was going to say anything about that?" She said in a harsh whisper because Zain and Leon had drawn closer.

"We know you." Both of them said as if it explained everything. And it probably did.

"Sometimes I think the two of you conspire against me." Lana stated.

Vincent grinned. "Always." At the look on her face he laughed.

With much joggling to the baby and crying on her part, they reached the very small boat dock on time. Just the thought of being on a boat, even for a maximum of two days, made Damien hesitate. Eventually they got him on the boat, but his face remained the same green color throughout their ride.

The captain was a man named Yoroi. He was a solidly built man with dark hair and beard with a dark tan from so much time in the sun. He told them the basic rules of his boat and then they set off. Usually with long speeches like that, Lana didn't bother to try and pay too close attention and translate word for word, even in her mind. She took the basic meaning by catching words and phrases. This worked nine out of ten times. It was usually very embarrassing when she hit that last one and she got the meaning wrong.

Lana hummed a tuneless song to the baby as she fed her warmed goat milk from a leather sack made especially for her. While she did that she let her mind wander.

The man Yoroi, she knew his name meant "armor" in Yamani. Wasn't it odd that he would be a sailor? Didn't armor sink in water? The name seemed to fit him, strong, but not what he had decided to be. She shrugged. She had never believed that names decided a future.

She hadn't noticed she had stopped her humming, but the child in her arms stayed quiet and content.

A rough voice, speaking Yamani sounded to her left. She jumped in surprise. Her Yamani wasn't so good as her Common or Karucian so the words didn't translate automatically when she wasn't paying any kind of attention.

"Pardon?" She said trying her hardest to be polite when she realized it was Captain Yoroi.

"I said, this one would make a fine sailor." It took a moment for Lana to realize he was talking about the baby.

"What makes you say that?" She asked pulling the leather feeder away

He reached a hand to the baby and put his forefinger near the little one's hand. She immediately grasped it with all her tiny fingers. "Good grasp," he said in his rough voice. "The young man in your party, he's got one of the weakest stomachs I have ever seen. Even this small one has a better one. Strong as steel, a good sign. And . . . the waves seem to calm him."

"Her," Lana corrected without thinking.

"I see." He said. "What's her name?"

Lana hesitated in answering. She decided on the truth. Telling the truth was often the simplest way to do things. Not always the most pleasant, but it got you where you needed to go more often than not. "I don't know. I found her abandoned."

"Abandoned." Yoroi repeated with a shake of his head.

He seemed to feel strongly for children or at least that was the vibe Lana received from him. So when she asked her next question she didn't feel bad or hesitant. "Do you have any children?"

Yoroi looked out onto the waves when he answered. "No. My wife and I have always wanted children but she has yet to be able to carry one to term."

Before Lana could even think of something to say one of the crew members was calling him. Yoroi nodded to Lana before returning to business.

Damien stayed below deck, refusing to come out. He swore up and down that if he didn't see the water, he'd manage. Lana could do nothing but accept his reasoning if only because he was stubborn enough not to care what she said anyways. Though she herself didn't think it helped him any.

Lana's necessity for only a few hours of sleep seemed to be a good trait when taking care of a child. Despite all of the energy she put into taking care of the baby girl Lana found herself filled with another kind of energy, the restless kind.

She made rounds about the boat, sometimes with the baby and sometimes not, in an attempt to keep the restlessness at bay. She had felt this way few enough times that it bothered her.

Due to some bad weather, they were forced to stay upon the boat for an extra day. When the news reached Damien he had been none to pleased. He had groaned loudly. No one had ever been entirely sure where Damien received his almost completely solitary and emotionless attitude from, but it was how he was. So for him to show so much emotion conveyed just how much it bothered him, though that was no great secret to begin with.

Leon succeeded in avoiding her in the duration of their time on the boat, but then again Lana made no real effort to seek him out.

At times, Lana would hand her small charge to someone to carry for a while who would in turn hand her to someone else. At one point, it reached Yoroi. Lana had caught sight of him. The light in his eyes was enough to tell her of his joy. It made Lana sad to think that someone would throw their child away when others, like Yoroi, wanted children so badly.

Even with his harsh looks and rough voice, Yoroi was a nice, softhearted man where children were concerned. Business was another matter.

Lana sighed. After putting the baby girl down for the night (though with babies it was hardly ever so final) Lana still wasn't tired. Well, her mind wasn't tired.

She walked out and looked up at the darkened night sky. It was cloudy, not a star to be seen. At the sight she sighed louder.

"Is there something the matter?" The suddenness of the voice surprised her, even as soft as his voice was.

Lana smiled to Zain. "No, I had just been hoping to see some stars but it seems my luck is no so good."

"Sometimes its the small things that make the day." Zain said. Lana smiled.

"Yes," She said. "Just as long as they don't forget about the big things too."

"What do you mean by that?" He seemed genuinely interested to know her answer.

Lana had never seen him in such a mood to talk without her asking questions or prodding him in some way. It didn't bother her in the least. "It takes a balance. Don't look too closely at the small things and don't get lost in the big ones. I think thats all I meant."

Zain nodded, but his silence seemed to have returned.

Lana walked a little more to the front of the boat. The islands had always been within view around them but the one they were headed to was closest now. "We'll be there in the morning." Lana remarked.

Vincent, who had been watching this encounter, turned back down into the cabin. "Damien, do you think we should worry about the other one?"

Damien was laying on one of the bunks, a thin pillow over his head.

"I don't know." Came the muffled reply.

Vincent didn't think much of his brother's answer. He knew Damien wasn't feeling well and that that was the only reason he wasn't more into protecting their sister. Any other day though . . .

"Well," Leon's voice interjected into the conversation. "I'm going to go out on a limb and say I'm the first one, because the two of you seem to keep a pretty keen eye on me."

"And for good reason." Vincent said seriously with a smile that was none too friendly. Leon smiled back as if they were old buddies.

"So, you must be referring to Zain as 'the other one'." He said entering the very small, already cramped cabin.

"I don't think the question was directed at you." Vincent said, the warning smile still present on his face.

But Leon ignored that. "And to answer the question: in all my time with Zain, I have never seen him at all attracted to anyone. At one time I thought maybe men was his way, but he isn't attracted to men or women. All in all, I don't think you should worry too much about 'the other one'."

"How long have you known Zain?" Vincent asked.

Leon smiled. "I thought I wasn't supposed to be part of the conversation." And with that he made his leave.

"I really don't like him." Damien's voice came from under the pillow.

"You and me both." Vincent said.

* * *

The baby—Lana still disliked referring to her as 'the baby'. She shook her head. The baby seemed to have picked up some of her restlessness. She fidgeted and squirmed and cried out.

"Shh, shh," Lana said as soothingly as she could. "Its all right, lovely, its okay."

"Lana," Vincent said over her shoulder. "Time to go. Damien's already off the boat. Last one on, first one off; go figure."

Lana laughed lightly. "I'll be there soon."

Stepping off the boat Lana was hit with the immediate differences between the smaller island and this larger, more mainstream one. Louder sounds, more people, more buildings, bigger structures.

Was she really going to leave a baby amidst all of this? Without parent-like figures? Only a convent? But the time it would take to find someone who wanted to take care of the child might make her brothers far more irritated with her.

With a sudden thought she wanted to smack herself. She turned back onto the boat. Vincent called after her but she kept on going.

"I'll be right back." She said before stepping back onto the boat. She stopped one of the crew members. "Excuse me, where can I find Captain Yoroi?"

The man told her where he was and she thanked him. She raced tot he opposite side of the boat still hearing Vincent and now Damien calling after her. Lana didn't bother answering them.

She found him. His back was facing her. That gave her enough time to compose herself before getting his attention. Lana cleared her throat, "Captain Yoroi?"

He turned around. "I thought you had to leave soon. Something urgent."

"My brother is the one who wanted to leave so soon. Him and his weak stomach." Lana paused. How to phrase her next thoughts? And without getting too personal? She'd only known him three days after all and from what she could tell (or maybe just what others said, she couldn't remember) Yamani were very private.

_Blunt, go with blunt._ Her thoughts told her and she understood the reasoning behind it. At worst, he'll be outraged, she would be chased off the boat and the baby would still be fine enough to go to the Mother of Waters convent.

"Do you like her?" Lana asked.

"Who? The little one?" Lana nodded. "She's a good one."

Lana paused. "I told you that I found her, thats true. But I can't take care of her, I'm too young. I'm probably going to leave her at the Mother of Waters convent."

Yoroi nodded. "Sounds reasonable, she isn't yours."

"B-but I want her to have a real family, with parents." Lana said. She swallowed. "I know its probably very forward of me but . . . would you like to be her family?"

Yoroi paused, froze was a better word. Then shook his head but Lana waited still. She would wait for him to give her an answer. "You foreigners."

Lana could handle a little name calling. And foreigner wasn't that bad, in fact it was what she was. "That isn't a no."

The captain nodded as if saying he knew it wasn't a no. "My wife would be thrilled."

Something like hope swelled in Lana's chest. But she had to be sure. No false understandings. "Are you saying you'll take her in, treat her like you would one of your own?"

Yoroi nodded slowly. "Yes, yes."

Lana wanted to jump for joy, hug the man, kiss him on the cheek . . . something! But she calmed herself. She looked him directly in the eye. "Please, don't ever hurt her."

"I wouldn't." And she believed him.

Lana handed him everything. The baby along with all of the things Lana had gathered to care for her. With her packs lighter she looked at the captain. He, however, was looking down at the bundle now in his arms. With one last kiss on the child's head Lana was about to walk away when Yoroi's voice stopped her momentarily.

"I live near the ocean on this island, the edge of town. Its the only house so far away from everyone, should be easy to find. Come visit any time."

Lana bowed with a bob of her head. "I will try."

Finally, she stepped off of the boat.

"Where's the runt?" Vincent asked.

"With her new family, or the start of it." Lana answered somewhat sadly. Yes, of course, she was happy but she would still miss 'the little runt' as Vincent so affectionately put it. She put on a smile. "Come on let's go see the city."

"What?" Damien asked. "Just like that? You've found a family for her? Do you mean we came all this way on that blasted boat for nothing?"

"No." Lana said, she wanted to snap but she knew her brother was cranky from the boat ride. "Without that boat ride I might not have met the man who would care for her."

Lana didn't say anything else as she took Flash's reins and walked into the city. Three of the four men exchanged glances. Zain being the only one who didn't as he looked after the young woman.

It seemed their adventures in this new city, this new island were going to begin.

* * *

A/N: I'm pretty sure there is going to be action in the next one. Joy! Now I know I'm not that great at action scenes, but I do my best. . And! Watch closely! Something important will begin in the next chapter . . . (Well if it turns out right).

I had wanted to make this one longer, but my sister was all like . . . go to sleep . . . I need my sleep . . .wah. So sorry about that. If it makes you feel any better, its still longer than the previous chapters.

Oh, and I do appreciate it when you **REVIEW**!


	8. Almost Close to Home

A/N: Honestly, I don't know much about "Yamani's" (or Japanese) so I'll be making up a lot of stuff in the Yamani Isles. Bare with me.

**Chapter 8: Almost Close to Home**

Lana's next attempt to tour the city alone did not go by well. Lana had thought that in Damien's presently weakened state, it would be the best moment to try for her next getaway. Sneaky it might be, but being a princess with three decidedly protective brothers and usually guards upon guards to keep an eye on her, she learned that sneaky was sometimes best in some cases.

Sadly, however, she had underestimated how well her brothers knew her. Their next discussion lasted hours and with each passing minute Lana grew more frustrated at her time wasted but they would not let up.

"So what then?" Lana asked. "Did we come all this way to play it safe, do nothing interesting at all?"

"No, according to you we came for adventure. That doesn't have to mean forgetting how to be safe," Damien said, his voice tight but nothing else.

"Lana, honestly, would it really be that bad. We would only follow you--" Vincent tried to make it sound insignificant.

"Wouldn't really be that bad! What 'wouldn't really be that bad' would be if I could do this _alone_. But no! The two of you--" Lana clamped her mouth shut and sat down on the bed in the room they were having their private fight. She breathed very hard through her nose.

Her brothers, who had seen her do this before, stayed silent knowing that if they said anything at this very moment it could very well ruin the point they were making instead of helping. The silence continued except for Lana's breathing and then finally that too eased and she closed her eyes.

She stood abruptly. "Fine, come, I don't care. Be ready to wake up early, we are going to explore the town from sunrise to sunset."

Her brothers watched her leave the room knowing that in her own way, Lana was satisfied.

* * *

Lana walked a bit ahead of the rest of the group and they let her. That morning Lana had seemed to have dropped all of her anger and had one of her usual chipper faces on. That was until she saw that all four men in her party would be coming with her on the outing. She had thought only one or two of them would be going, not all.

As they explained it, Damien said he would definitely go, no questions or debate. Vincent went out of curiosity, to see what Lana was so eager to see. Leon didn't specify exactly why he was going but he did wink at her. And everyone just supposed that Zain went along because everyone else was going, though he stayed silent.

So when Lana went out of her way to get some space, they let her have it within reason.

Lana rubbed her arm. Not moments later she rubbed it again. She resettled her shoulders.

Her brothers watched her continued antics questioningly.

She rubbed the back of her neck and then scratched her head. As Damien and Vincent watched they noticed something wrong in her fidgeting. Lana did not fidget. Even when doing something unimportant, Lana seemed to go with a sense of purpose.

The two males in the royal triad shared a look of identical thoughts and sped up. Each on went to a different side of Lana.

"Are you okay?" Damien asked, speaking low as to not be overheard.

"Yes," Lana said. SHe looked up into his still slightly pale face. "Why?"

"You're acting . . . odd." Vincent said.

"Really?" Lana asked. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you keep--" Vincent twitched over-dramatically. "fidgeting."

"Do I?" Lana asked just as her hand rose to wipe away the odd feeling at the back of her neck.

"Hah!" Vincent exclaimed, catching her wrist. "Like this!"

"Oh." And that was all Lana said, dropping her hand to her side.

"Maybe you have lice or fleas or something," Vincent said. He started to search through her black locks. Lana swatted him away.

"I do not have lice!" She hissed. "Its just--" She paused trying to find the right words. "I keep on getting this feeling, like something on my skin or coming off my skin or—or that its not my skin at all."

Damien grabbed Lana's wrist and shook the lank hand. "It's still your body."

Lana looked down at her hand when, not of her will, it convulsed into a fist. She unfolded it finger by finger very slowly. By the time she had her hand unclenched again the feeling had left her completely. _Odd_, Lana thought as a shiver ran down her spine, _very odd._

Just then a small young woman bumped into Damien on Lana's right side. She muttered something like 'sorry' in Yamani and continued on her way.

Lana paused for just a moment. She turned back and grabbed the girl's arm.

She was shorter than Lana by inches. Her long hair was an odd highlighted brown not often seen on Yamanis. The hair looked like it could be nice but it was knotted and uncared for. The face was small and pretty with a pointed chin. Lana looked into her dark eyes as the young woman tried to struggle away.

"If you don't mind," Lana held out her other hand expectantly. The Yamani looked at her for a moment, searching for a possible way to get out of this. Lana tightened her grip just a bit but her expression never changed. She stopped her struggling and sighed. She handed over the purse she had stolen.

"Would you like to explain why you took the money?" Lana asked.

"Not everyone is rich." The girl said without emotion. "and without money how can I eat?"

Lana pretended to weigh the words for a moment. Then said. "True enough. Here." She took out some money from her own purse and gave it to her. "There's enough there to last you a few days, maybe more if you use it wisely."

Lana released her. She looked down at the money for only a split second before running off.

Vincent moaned. "Such a soft touch!"

"Oh hush. We ended up losing less than if she had taken Damien's purse completely. Besides she deserved something if Damien didn't even suspect." Lana said.

Leon made a face. "You shouldn't have given her anything. Common theft should not be rewarded."

Lana smiled brilliantly and didn't say another word. Zain looked back at the girl for a moment before turning and following his group.

True to her word, Lana kept them going until the sun started to set. They visited roadside vendors, small shops, large shops, anything and everything that captured Lana's fancy. When one of them thought about complaining Lana smiled and told them they were free to return to the inn at any time. For whatever reason none of them turned back.

It happened near the end of the day. Just as Lana promised, they were headed back towards the inn but got caught up in a crowd of people.

"What's going on?" Vincent asked in common meaning he was asking one in his group.

Lana and Damien both shrugged so he turned his gaze to Leon and Zain both of them made some sort of motion to show they didn't have the slightest clue either.

Lana pushed her way near the front. The people of the town had created two crowds on either side of the main road. Lana turned to the old woman next to her.

"Excuse me, what's going on here?"

The old woman, whose gaze had been locked down the road like so many others, glanced at her. "Princess Nozomi is passing through this town."

"Do they do this often?" Lana asked wondering why the name sounded vaguely familiar.

The woman shook her head not bothering to spare another glance. "No, she's . . . I believe on her way to Karucia for the arranged marriage."

Lana paused at that. _Emereth's betrothed? _That could be why she recognized the name. She waited with the rest of the crowd, letting the question of where her brothers were in the crowd fall away from her mind.

It wasn't too long before people began to talk louder and louder and bowing like a wave in the sea of people came her way. Lana peaked as far around the people as she could. It was easy to see the only people walking down that road.

A lacquered royal cart, or _gosho-guruma_, rolled down the main street. It was pulled by many young, strong men. More men, she guessed were guards, littered the walking space in front of and behind the holding place of the princess.

Lana smiled. It was an odd feeling to see someone who would be going back to the land she had come from, and not just that but someone who would see her family.

Suddenly, she was being pushed forward by the crowd of people behind her. The guards acted immediately, trying to hold back the excited people. The opposite side of the road moved forward too and more guards were spared holding them back. Most of the people looked just as surprised as the guards. When the masses continued forward the guards started knocking them out, one by one.

And that's when they struck.

Black clad figures came down from the rooftops. They landed near the _gosho-guruma_ that held the princess. When they landed they looked like nothing more than black shadows on the ground. They took out the first two men holding the princess.

Lana tried to move out of her position so she could help but she was in the main throng of people being forced forward. Lana yelled, warning them of the danger at their backs but her voice was lost among the people.

"Will you shut up!" The guard brought down a wooden stick towards Lana. She grabbed his hand and twisted the weapon from his hold before she jabbed it into his lower abdomen. He fell to the ground groaning. Taking out one guard would surely be forgiven. Lana leaped forward, hitting the ground and rolling.

She kicked where the shadow creature's knee should have been if it were a human. She came into contact with something much like the stick she had taken from the guard. The shadow went down.

More of the shadow creatures fell down from the rooftops. Lana wasted no time in seeing their origin.

The men holding the _gosho-guruma_ dropped it roughly and also fought of the shadow creatures. They would fall and after that, the eyes simply seemed to lose sight of them but it didn't matter because more rained down from above them.

One of the shadows fell on her in a swallowing black void. Lana gasped for air only to choke on nothing. She reached out and took hold of something very thin. She did the only thing she could think of and pulled it over her knee till it cracked. The blackness dispersed. Lana had no time to relearn how to breathe.

The guards finally joined in but that only added to the chaos. With them in the brawl, the crowd was free to push forward, which they took advantage of.

Sweat ran coldly down her spine. Amidst all of the confusion her body stopped, mer muscles ignored her orders and fell limp.

The feeling that her body was not her own returned. Her head turned like a doll's on strings. One of the guards had fallen at her feet, a glaive in his hand.

Lana's left hand reached out and grabbed it. From there, Lana's own consciousness moved back as another presence moved forward. She felt her body move, chopping, slicing, breaking. She also felt something else, a . . . a joy not her own.

Her Gift pulled out from its core. It wasn't the same as when she called forward some of it for spells, it was being stolen from her, used outside of her will. But it was still her body, still her magic. It flowed into her left arm. The arm shoved the glaive into the ground and with it more of Lana's Gift.

All of the shadows stopped completely, frozen not matter what their position. The people of the crowd paused in surprise.

That foreign joy sang through Lana's bones as her Gift spread through the ground and found people. At that moment, Lana could pinpoint exactly which people had the Gift and which didn't. Then her Gift did something Lana could only describe as _twisting_. It did something she had never known, never done, never thought of. When her Gift twisted the shadows vanished just as the ones that were hit did except this time it was all of them and no more appeared.

It was also at that moment that select people in the crowd and even one or two guards fell to the ground groaning, some even screamed. One scream in particular caught Lana's ears. It was one coming from the _gosho-guruma_.

Lana came back to herself and her hold on the Gift broke. The screaming stopped with it. She ran to the _gosho-guruma_ but by the time she got there the door at the side opened and a young woman stepped out.

Even though she was gasping Lana noticed how beautiful she was. Black hair, as black as her own, was pulled tightly away from the oval face and decorated with flowered hair ornaments. She wore a smooth cream silk kimono with a rich brown obi. Swans flew up from the hem stretching delicate necks. One of the layers of her garb at her neck (that Lana admitted not knowing the exact name to) drew the eye with its deep orange color.

Princess Nozomi fell from the carriage. Lana reacted quickly and caught her.

"Sorry," She said softly in Yamani. "I don't know what came over me. The pain . . ."

She retracted from Lana's hold and stood straight. She stood scant inches below Lana, tall for a Yamani. It was then she caught the light brown eyes of the princess.

"I saw you," Princess Nozomi said. "when I peaked through the window. I believe it is you I should thank for fighting those things."

"Nonsense, your men fought." Lana said.

"You gave them time to react." Princess Nozomi said. "What is your name?"

"Lana," She answered instantly without thinking.

"Lana," The princess tried it out for size. "I have nothing to give but my thanks--" She stopped herself holding up one slender finger which she used to reach inside her sleeve. She pulled something out. "and this."

The Yamani princess placed something rather heavy in Lana's hand. It was a cuff bracelet made of gold with many delicate designs that would take Lana time to sort through.

"It was mine, now it is yours for saving me." That was all the princess said.

Her people ushered her back into the _gosho-guruma_. Watching her ride away Lana had the urge to yell for her to stop just so she could have a few words. So that she could tell her to tell her family that she was alright. But she wouldn't.

She watched the Yamani carriage continue down the main street of the city. Some went back to their homes and others helped the wounded. Lana was amazed at how efficient they did it all.

A hand came down on her shoulder, Lana jumped in surprise.

"Wow!" Vincent exclaimed. "Why didn't you tell me you could fight with your left hand, too?"

Lana looked down at her left arm. The muscles already felt tired from the movements they had performed.

"I can't," She whispered.

* * *

A/N: OKAY! Wow. Long time no see, eh? I'm really going to try and get the next chapter out soon, it's probably going to be a short one but no worries! I believe I've got the next two or three chapters planned out. (so hopefully, no writers block.)

Once again, please Review! (Unless I've taken too long to update and everyone's given up! Lol. Which isn't entirely impossible.)


	9. Say Uncle

A/N: Here is the short, but important chapter, as promised. HAPPY EASTER!

**Chapter 9: Say Uncle**

Lana rubbed her arm as she and her entourage entered the inn. The muscles in her left arm was starting to bother her. She felt like she was young all over again, working on muscle endurance. After ever practice, her body felt like nothing more than dead weight.

Lana guessed that Damien and Vincent joined the brawl during some point because Leon was giving complements or commenting or maybe just trying to start a conversation. She wasn't listening. As they sat down at a table Lana continued to walk on.

The conversation stopped.

"Lana, where are you going?" Damien asked.

"Sleep," She answered. As soon as the word left her mouth, she winced. They wouldn't believe she was going to sleep, she never went to sleep this early. Lana turned around and smiled at them. "I'm going to bed."

There was nothing wrong with her going to sleep for all that it was unnatural-feeling. Damien only nodded and Vincent lamely said, "Okay."

As she walked down the hallway to her room Lana knew her brothers would think something of her. They would think maybe was going to sleep early to wake up long before them, or maybe she planned on sneaking out another way. But nothing like that was on her mind.

She opened the door and walked into the small simple room. Everything about it was simple from the simple square shape to the earthy colors.

She laid down. Lana laid there for a while, letting her body stop buzzing, letting the excitement go, letting her body begin to shut down.

Sleep came softly, like a wave onto shore. Lana let it come dimly noting that her left arm would be terribly sore the next time she woke up.

"_I'm sorry, I truly am." The voice was unfamiliar. Lana found herself sitting up in a bed she vaguely remembered going to sleep in but the setting was different. _

"_Sorry?" Lana asked._

"_Yes." The voice answered. Lana looked to where it came from to find nothing there. Just her bed as an island among nothingness._

_A million questions formed in her head each of which Lana didn't remember actually saying but they were somehow aloud. "Where is this? Sorry for what? Who are you? Where are you?"_

_The voice chuckled. "Not so many questions at once. I will answer them in due time, I will teach you of many things that have been kept secret from you."_

_A person stepped forward from somewhere outside of her range. Lana lifted herself from the bed, as soon as she did the bed disappeared. _

"_You are dreaming." The voice now embodied in the person stepping forward spoke. _

_Lana had remembered dreams before, and she couldn't think of a time when that was actually said. She remembered _knowing_ she was dreaming, but that was different._

_The person was shorter than her. A boy. He was a boy, not a man. She could tell by the youth in his voice, which she found she could notice now that he had appeared. His hair was a blond that looked like he had taken a bath in dirty water, but it looked neat an not at all unprofessional. Everything about his face was sharp from his nose to his shoulders and even his eye color. _

_His eyes struck her vision with terrible clarity. True green eyes a cat would love to have._

_Lana studied his appearance and could not believe this was a dream. In dreams, nothing was really clear. Faces, body structure, hair color—none of it mattered in dreams. One simply_ knew_ and that was what it was in the dream world. And how it had been since the first time she had remembered a dream at all._

"_That is because you do not know me." The boy said. He smiled, a simple curl of lips with the bottom lip more full than the top. "I said I am sorry, do you accept my apology?"_

"_Sorry for what?" Lana asked._

"_I did not know that if I controlled your body for a time it would hurt you." He said._

_Lana knew she would be confused and shocked but in a dream, it seemed to make sense. "My left arm is only sore, I am not left handed."_

"_I see." He said. "And I am not right handed."_

"_I had noticed." Lana said dryly._

_He gave that curling smile and laughed shortly. "I have much to tell you."_

"_About what?"_

_He sighed. "At our next meet, I promise, it is not kind to keep people in the dark. But I am still getting used to all this--" Lana had a half-thought to think what exactly 'all this' was but the thought drifted away. "The night runs short, or perhaps you are waking. You do not sleep for very long, I have noticed."_

_Lana knew, but how did he if she had never met him? _

_Lana could feel the dream slipping through her hold. The world becoming less real—or maybe more real. But one thing stayed the same, the boy stayed as clear as if nothing were happening._

"_Who are you?" She asked._

"_You, can call me Uncle." He said, his voice far, away and yet so intimate._

Lana opened her eyes slowly, easing out of her sleep. Her mind went over the dream again and again. The most odd thing about it stuck out like a stick protruding from the mud. In her past experiences with dreams, she always knew the thought process of the others in her dream. But the boy's thoughts were his own, not hers. She couldn't even pick up a feeling from him.

She opened her mouth and the word fell from her mouth like water. "Uncle."

* * *

A/N: I don't make any promises as to when the next chapter will be out. I'm sorry, I know my updates are a bit sporadic but . . . uh, at least I'm updating, right? I've got a piece of the next chapter written so unless my inspiration gives out on me again (which it likes to do regularly) I HOPE to have the next chapter done soon. 

**PLEASE REVIEW!**


	10. Troubles at Home

A/N: First off! Sorry this took me so very long. I got caught up in some stories I've been writing on my own. And then I got a review which reminded me EGAD! I still had to finish this one. Sorry again!

**Chapter 10: Trouble at Home**

The clothes she wore presently had been modified greatly from original Karucian design. At first, Arra would hold the full sleeves down with bandages on her forearms because they would bother her. When the royal tailors realized she had been doing this they changed her exercise shirts. They kept room in the sleeves at the upper arm and made it tight around the forearm.

When she used them on the practice fields, one of the young men asked her, wouldn't it be easier to conceal a dagger in the full sleeves? Arra had smiled and said, Yes probably, but I do not _need_ daggers.

Next, her problem came with the loose breeches. No one seemed to notice but Arra that the extra slowed down kicks just a fraction. There was too much air resistance. In that department, the tailors made the breeches almost skin tight, except for enough room to move freely.

Over all, Arra was happy with the prototype. But of course the tailors did not stop there. They felt it was too simple. While Arra was not entirely overjoyed (for she would have been happy with the plainest of clothes) she left them to their imagination and expressed her dislike saying in the least she wanted _no lace_.

For this day, Arra thought it best to wear the simplest form of those clothes. No bright colors, no ornate embroidering, she wore an undyed shirt and brown breeches.

Arra walked out to the practice fields. She carefully ignored the nervousness in her gut. She could meet ambassadors, dukes, and lords as cool as a cat but a visit from an old friend made her shift from foot to foot.

Arra's thoughts were elsewhere when someone tried to talk to her. He must have been trying to get her attention for a while because finally he just yelled, "My Queen!"

She blinked and focused on him. It was one of her advisers. One of the shorter ones, he was taller than Arra still but only by half a head. Arra had lessened the need for advisers over her years of reign, maybe it was a good decision maybe it was bad but she grew tired of them trying to order her in the directions they wanted. She hadn't been doing well with them anyways.

When they told her she should have children _immediately_ she waited a year and a half. She laughed when they said she should stop training daily because it was bad for the queens image. They continued on small things like that. The only thing Arra had agreed on was after the triplets were born she would have no more children. Being such a small woman, birthing had been hard.

The triplets had been born earlier than their due date and since there was three sharing the womb they were even smaller. Nobody thought they would survive, but they pulled through.

But Arra considered the man standing before her more of a friend than any of the other advisers. He had very light brown hair that was sometimes called dark blond and hazel eyes.

"Cyril, didn't I tell you to call me Arra?"

"Well, ah, yes you did, but you weren't answering to that." His eyes darted back and forth. "I needed to tell you so—"

"I'm sorry, I'm attending to something right now." Arra smiled shortly and continued towards the practice fields saying over her shoulder. "Look for Liam, he'll inform me later."

"B-but—" He stuttered.

"Liam!" Arra reiterated. She heard Cyril sigh and knew he would go on to Liam.

Arra could see the Shang Hawk from where she stood. Her childhood friend with honey-brown hair and deep gray eyes. Liam was a little more broad in the shoulder which made his waist look slimmer but other than that, both Joel and Liam had nearly the same body type.

As if he were called by the thought, Joel turned around and greeted Arra with a grin. She couldn't help but return the favor. The closer she got the more she realized that the years he had not visited had done something to him. Something good or bad she wasn't sure, but he looked older. Instead of the pure honey colored hair that Arra remembered wanting instead of her own as a child, gray had started to peak in a little above his temples. Did she look older too?

Joel hugged her immediately but did not spin her around as he once would have done.

"It has been too long my friend." Arra said just as he released her.

"No formal speaking with me, Arra dear." He smiled. Now that she thought about it, perhaps that had not been the best line to start with. Yes it had been to long, but saying so might be implying that he had owed her a visit years ago and as her friend, he should have come dutifully. Arra shook herself, court life had changed even the way she thought.

"I did try to come." Joel said and somehow Arra knew he really hadn't. She knew why, or perhaps his reasons had changed in the long years but he had said it was because seeing her was too hard knowing she wasn't his. He must have seen in her face that she knew he hadn't tried because he said. "I did come for each birthing."

He had. But that had still been sixteen years ago. Something deep inside of her had the nerve to question if she should still call Joel her friend. If he deserved such a title, if he still even wanted it.

Joel steered the conversation into pleasantries and they kept that going for a while. The whole time Arra had one thought at the back of her mind, the true reason she had asked him to come. He knew. He had to know. He came, did he intend to confront this?

The last topic died and silence strained between them. That silence alone made Arra's heart ache. She had known she had lost something between the two of them but coming face to face with a truth was never easy.

Joel cleared his throat but waited a minute. Perhaps gathering nerve? "Arra," And his voice was somber. "What is it you asked me to come to Karucia for?"

The silence was gone but tension took its place. The tension promised this would be unpleasant.

Arra sighed. "Joel what exactly are you doing in Tusaine?"

Stiffness spread through his shoulders and his voice reflected it. "I think you've already made assumptions."

"Joel give me an answer and as your friend I will believe you."

"Not very queen-like." He commented.

"That's not an answer to my question." Arra said. His shoulders hunched. Arra wanted to hear it from his mouth, not in his body language. She asked a more direct question than would ever be tolerated among her court. "Have you been seeing Lianne more intimately than you ought?"

Joel flinched as if she had slapped him. He recovered and took a few steps away from her. Arra thought he wouldn't answer her but he proved her wrong. He whipped around, his gray eyes narrow with rage. "And if I said yes? What would you do?"

"Is it a yes?"

Joel took a deep breath. His next words were spoken through clenched teeth. "Yes."

Arra's shoulders fell. "Oh, Joel. Then I have to say, stop. This isn't good. She's married to the king there for Mithros' sake. He'll have you killed if he finds out and he'd be perfectly within his rights to."

"Are you saying you'd side with him, that you'd want me to die too?"

Was he purposefully missing the point? "Joel, you know I don't want you to die. It's the only reason I'm saying this."

"But he's so much older than her!"

"You yourself are ten years older than her, how can you act like some young stallion? Please listen to me." Arra sent up a prayer to the gods that he would. She watched him for a while and found she could no longer read him. His jaw clenched and unclenched. She hoped what she was saying was getting through to him. He began to tremble and Arra couldn't bring herself to take that as a good sign.

"All the gods above!" He shouted. Nope, not a good sign. "Can't you be happy for me? Even for a moment?"

"Joel--"

"No! I bet you can't be happy for me. It reaches beyond your capabilities! You have are married and have a family but I can't love someone? And I bet there's a reason for that too." Arra was looking at him wide-eyed. There was such smoldering hate in his eyes and it was all for her. "You call me your friend but I think you still want to hang on to me, hold me back with some tie to you.

"You can't be happy that I've found someone I can love and who can love me because you are jealous. Jealous that I no longer pine after you. You still love me."

He was breathing hard but his eyes never left her.

Arra was trembling with anger now, too. She knew the next words that left her mouth wouldn't be pleasant. They would be irreversible and would destroy whatever chance at saving their friendship but her anger got the best of her.

"How dare you." Her voice was low. She was beyond shouting. "How dare you even think anything like that of me. I have loved one man in the way you mean. I love Liam with my whole heart. I cared for you as a friend and only that and you couldn't stand it."

He shook his head and smiled. That smile said to her,_ oh you silly child, have you not yet come to the truth?_ It was that smile that made her fists clench.

"If my words mean so little than why are you here, now, meeting with me? Why, after all these years do you still seek me out?"

"In truth? For your own health! You can't go on like this with Lianne!"

His look darkened, more anger. "I've finally found someone and now you want me back." He stepped closer to her. "At least admit it aloud. You want me now that you can't have me. Perhaps your so-called love for your king is fading."

He wasn't listening! She looked into his eyes and saw that hate. The hate that had taken residence somewhere in their separation. She had always seen a softness there just for her even if she tried to ignore it. This was why he hadn't come for years and years. He had been separating himself in hopes of letting her go because they both knew he had loved her. He had come here thinking he had reached that place, where she no longer meant anything to him at least not in such a painful way. He was wrong.

Joel grabbed Arra's left arm. "Arra--"

"NO!" She shouted letting her fist fly to meet his rib. "You dare come to _my_ kingdom and accuse me of such things!"

When he bent over from her blow she brought her knee to meet him there. Joel straightened and took a step back before her knee could get him.

"I think you've gotten rusty. Even fifteen years ago you could have pulled that off."

Those words alone struck a chord. Had court life really made her soft despite her efforts to stay top-notch? _Well_, the always reasonable voice said at the back of her mind,_ you are thirty-eight. You're entitled to be a little less that perfect._

"Would you like to test that?" Arra licked her lips and went down into stance.

Joel literally jumped at the chance. She tried to duck but he grabbed her elbow joint and pulled her. When she realized she was going to probably be slammed into the ground she pushed off of the ground. Their momentum matched closely enough that when he rolled across the ground she was able to do the same while twisting out of his hold.

When there are two people of such skill fight one of two things usually happen. One, the two people in question fight so wonderfully together it is like art. Or two, as in this case, the techniques don't mesh well and suddenly it looks like they are children slapping and hitting where they can. It is easy to see how the first comes to be but the second is a little less clear. With Joel and Arra it happened because they were angry and thinking unclearly. That made their movements rash.

The both of them punched and kicked but neither thought to dodge because neither was thinking without a veil of anger. During the flurry of fists someone grabbed Arra from behind. Immediately she jabbed her elbow into the person. With a grunt the person dropped her and the man who had grabbed Joel fell away, too.

Arra got a few more punches in before at least three pairs of hands pulled her away saying something like, "My Queen!"

Arra looked across to find two people on each of Joel's arms and one with a hold around his neck. A part of her wanted to order the men to let them go and not interfere but she wasn't entirely sure they would listen. The man with his arm around Joel's neck was probably holding tighter than necessary.

"Is this how you fight now?" Joel spat. Arra had to fight to look through her right eye because it started to swell.

"Joel I want you out of Karucia. Never set foot in my kingdom again! If Lianne's husband kills you then fine!" Arra tore away from the men holding her. She heard him yell, "Fine!" Her eyes started to burn.

"Let him go! I want him out as soon as possible!" Arra shouted over her shoulder. She rubbed her good eye in hopes of stopping the burning. Where was Liam? She wished he were here now.

Arra went to his study only to find it empty. The burning continued and something like a sob escaped her lips. She checked in three other rooms to no avail before going to their room.

"Liam!" She called into the room but her voice sounded raspy. "Liam!"

He didn't answer. She stepped back out but the burning filled her eyes and threatened to spill. She took a shaky breath looking down at the ground.

"Arra? I couldn't find--"

"What!" Arra looked up to find Cyril.

"Oh, my Queen. What happened?" He put two fingers under her chin and made her look at him. With that small touch the burning fell from her eyes. She cried and sobbed. Cyril the kind soul that he was didn't know what to do when his strong queen fell apart. He did the only thing he could think of and wrapped his arms around her and soothed her as best he could.

Her knees gave out an he brought her softly to the ground still in front of the king and queen's room.

Arra took his shirt into her hands and clung to them while she cried. Joel hated her! Hated her with every fiber of his being. His hate was the kind that came from love. She was angry with him and wanted to hate him but...but...

She took a gasping breath which came out as yet another sob. She couldn't hate him with the same intensity because she had never loved him therefore she could never hate him the same way. Arra was about to bury her face into Cyril's chest when he was torn away from her.

That made her cry out loudly. Who had taken her only comfort away?

The tears still fell but she fought to look up. Her sobs turned into little hiccups. Liam held up Cyril by his neck. She even caught the words he was saying—no shouting.

"What are you doing with my wife—your _queen_? I sh--"

Arra used the wall to stand. "He was there for me!" She yelled. "Where were you?"

Arra went to him and shoved him. He actually stepped back dropping Cyril. A part of her mind thought that was because he had finally noticed her face and its present state.

"Where were you? Hm?" Fresh, hot tears spilled down her face.

"Oh, Arra." Liam came to her and tried to hug her. She pushed him away. It would have been like Liam to hold her there anyways but that day he let his arms drop. Arra turned back into their room and slammed the door. Liam must have paused outside the door because it was long moments later before he came in after her.

Arra went to him and buried her face in his chest sobbing and wetting Liam's shirt. At first Liam tried to lift her face to his but she kept it turned down against his chest. Liam placed his chin on top of Arra's head and hugged her close.

She tried to stop the crying but couldn't. Joel's words spun in her mind again and again along with the knowledge that her friend hated her more deeply than she could ever return. Perhaps if she could return it, it might be better, feel better. She held Liam tighter if possible and words spilled from her mouth.

"I do love you. I do, I do. I love you Liam." She was so caught in her own mind and problems and tears that she didn't notice Liam not return the words.

* * *

A/N: This chapter makes me kinda sad. Only kinda. 


	11. Sweet Oblivion Eludes Us Till Death

A/N: **IMPORTANT!** This chapter takes place in the same time period as the last one. Got it? Hope so.

**Chapter 11: Sweet Oblivion Eludes Us Till Death**

Liam strolled through the courtyard. The wind blew a light breeze to him ruffling his black hair. The courtyard had beautiful decorative plants and flowers, almost as wonderful as Arra's personal garden. He smiled at that. Arra didn't let anyone touch her garden. He remembered the last caretaker of the palace who had thought some touch ups were in order. Needless to say, he didn't work at the palace very long.

Between the everyday work of a queen, daily practicing, sometimes training the troops and various other things she did, Arra kept herself busy. Very busy.

She had been increasing the loads over the years little by little but now that he looked at it she was swamped. Was this something he should look into? Should he worry that his wife was piling on more and more work unto herself? This question had bothered Liam for a long time. He had, after all, married a Shang. They were constantly restless. Arra had proved time and time again that she was Shang down to the bone and not only with the way she fought but with certain concepts too, such as traveling.

Liam sat down at one of the four stone benches that surrounded the large elegant fountain. It looked simple sitting here from the side but it had taken years of living in Karucia for Liam to learn that Karucian art was often simple yet wonderful.

The fountain was made from white stone. The fountain head itself was of three people holding up a large basin that flowed over them. He had never seen the figures when the fountain was off but he knew one was a woman and the other two men. Arra had told him that they were the three watergivers of the world. When the world was made the water was not drinkable for humans so the three watergivers were given to the world to supply clean, fresh water.

There was Deloy the Giving. He gave the water directly to the people, now in the form of rains, lakes, rivers, and other such waterways. There was Keru the Reclaimer. He took back the used water but not to be unkind because then it was given to Anani the Purifier. Anani cleaned the water so it could be given back to the people by Deloy.

Arra had went on to say that they worked directly from the Water Goddess. This fountain represented their never ending flow and of how they worked together for the good of everyone. It was one of the Old Tales and one of the stories that Arra had told during the first few years of their marriage.

The most beautiful part of the fountain was the many colored tiles that did not create a particular picture in the pool around them but it did make the water look like liquid jewels when the sun was shining on it.

Liam sighed. He couldn't go on concentrating solely on the fountain. He did admire it but his mind kept turning back to Arra.

The gods knew she tried her best to quell the urge to travel out into the world alone with just her, her horse, and a few possessions. He didn't know if she knew that he noticed but he had. It had been an internal fight within herself and he knew it all. He sometimes wondered if one of the main things that actually kept her in Karucia was the fact that since she had been known as the princess who ran away she didn't want to give fuel as the queen who did also. Just to prove everyone wrong.

To get a change of scenery she had even began setting up family outings and vacations to one of the castles by the shore or something like that. This succeeded for a while until the advisers decided the palace needed them to be at the actual capital far too much. When they had said that, Liam remembered closing his eyes and sending a prayer up to the gods that this wouldn't be what did it. That this wouldn't be what made Arra crack. That day, Arra had forced a smile and extended her hours training troops. The children still got to go on visits to places around the Kingdom, visiting distant relatives but only up until they reached a certain age.

Lana had gotten some of Arra's restlessness. Liam had seen that too and not known what to do about it. Should he have shown his love more? More than he already had? He tried to be the reason Arra stayed but she couldn't just stay for him, Arra had to care about a whole Kingdom. But his daughter, what could he have done? Was there anything that could have been done?

Liam shook his head in hopes of chasing the thoughts back but he'd been trying to do that for years with no avail. _This is why people get gray hair,_ He thought.

He had been so deep in his thoughts he hadn't noticed when a person came to sit down beside him. She was the kind of woman who would be frustrated when a man did not notice her so after only a moment of waiting she said.

"My King, what has you so troubled?"

Liam blinked and turned to her. Lady Elise of Dunour Coast was—in all truthfulness—one of the most striking women he had ever seen. Her eyes were a clear green, not a hint of blue or even brown that would mark them as hazel. Her hair was what he described in his mind as _soft_. No, he had never touched it, but it just had that sort of look to it. Her hair wasn't the rare white-blond or hard yellow color he had found in his youth that he disliked but a smooth buttery shade. She wore it down at social functions (as had recently come into fashion) enough for him to know it was straight.

Liam thought the hair very nice but found that blond hair could hardly ever get a nice gloss that dark hair could. He liked dark thick hair. It felt nice sliding through his fingers.

There were some women who would never be considered ugly but more plain because no features caught one's attention. Lady Elise's caught more than enough attention with a that bone structure was delicate from the top of her head down to her toes. She might have been more popular at balls and functions if she were not married to the Lord of Dunour. He was a man older than even Liam while Lady Elise was probably a hair over twenty.

Liam stood to greet her. Even if she was seated already it was polite and it was well known she liked men—any and every one even married ones—to show her respect. She let him take her hand graciously. Her red lips turned up into a half smile and lowered her lashes over the green eyes.

He placed his lips on the back of her hand and murmured, "Good afternoon, Lady Elise."

He didn't kiss her knuckles because that was a little like begging to be noticed. It was flirting but in a kind manner and since he was married he would have kissed the Lady on the back of the hand anyways. It was folly to kiss the wrist because it was taking advantage and reaching for more of the woman's body than should be allowed.

After he released her hand she tucked it neatly with the other one on her lap. She smiled up at him again. "So, what has you so bothered? As your most humble subject I ask that if there is anything I can do, you need only ask."

Liam was tempted for a moment to ask her to leave him in peace. Arra was meeting with Joel this day and coming out here was supposed to calm him but having to be so formal would put stress on that. Then again it might take his mind off of other matters.

"No, Lady. I am only taking an afternoon stroll through the courtyard." He deliberately didn't answer what had him bothered and as king it was his right to.

"I think perhaps your stroll may come to a stop soon." He looked where her eyes were. It was Cyril. He hadn't spotted Liam yet but the king had a feeling he was going to.

"Yes, well." Liam coughed shortly into his hand. "I'm sure it isn't anything important. All the same." He smiled and walked away. He hadn't expected her to follow.

She giggled. For a moment Liam was struck with how odd giggling sounded on a twenty year old or then again maybe he just didn't like giggling. "I don't think anyone ever told me kings ran away from others."

"Oh, kings run plenty." Liam said looking behind him to see if Cyril was still there. "They just tend to be found faster than others. I'll probably talk to him later but right now I don't want to be bothered by courtly officials."

"You could not simply tell him that?" She blinked her big eyes at him.

Liam smiled. "They can be rather...persuasive at times." He moved to stand under some low branches of a tree. It had pink fuzzy flowers that looked more like odd cotton wisps. There was also one on the opposite side of the path. He peeked around the side of the tree finding that Cyril was walking away from the courtyard. He let out a sigh.

When he turned around he found Elise standing far closer than she had been before. His first instinct was to take a step back but his pride wouldn't let him do it. What king steps back from a lady? She reached up a hand and plucked one of the pink tree puffs from his shoulder. She smiled. At what? He didn't know but he didn't have to react because she spoke.

"This is a rather romantic place isn't it?"

"I suppose. It is, after all, a courtyard."

The beatific smile faltered as if she had made a mistake or he had said something she hadn't expected. Liam didn't let his mind sit there very long. What was the matter with him today? Ah. Yes. He was trying to keep himself off tender subjects.

In his attempt to think of a distraction he didn't notice Elise start a conversation. Well, he did notice but only with half a mind; he paid attention enough to answer her questions but they were mindless answers. If anyone were to ask what his conversation had been about with Lady Elise he wouldn't be able to answer. They talked like that for a while. Elise turned out to be one of those that gestures when they talk. Eventually, Liam's mind came back to him.

"Your Majesty, I must admit to having ulterior motives when I came out here this afternoon," Elise began. Liam listened in. "I—I--"

Suddenly, her hands were pressed against his chest and her lips on his. Liam was struck with a thought, _Arra wouldn't be able to kiss me on the lips by surprise because of her height._ It was that thought about Arra that helped him push the Lady Elise away.

"What are you doing?"

As if the kiss had given her confidence, she freely gave him a seductive smile. It was practiced and perfect. "My King, please--" She took a step to him. He took another one back.

"We are both married." Perhaps that would dissuade her? Remind her that she was married and not to him.

"Yes." She said agreeably enough. "But to those neither of us can really love."

"Who said I did not love my wife?" Liam demanded.

"It is okay to admit. You have been married a while. Others have lost their love before this length of time." She made it sound like a simple fact. Liam didn't like that.

"We," The words had to be pushed past the anger that had crawled up into his throat ready to burst forward. "are not one of them."

She started to say something equally awkward and wrong but Liam turned away. He strode into the palace. He stopped and leaned against one of the walls. He thrust his gaze to the ceiling only to close his eyes. After a while, he thought he would be okay. _I'll just go to my bedchamber and wait for Arra. Would she be done by now?_

Liam turned the corner to find that beside the door to his and Arra's room there were two huddled figures. He saw a fall of wavy hair and knew it to be his wife's. It didn't matter who was holding her, only that it wasn't him. As he stormed down the hall he saw one small hand snake around the man's waist. Immediately Liam was there and pulled off the man. Cyril.

Frustration with Elise and himself and the state he had found these two in built in his system. His parents raised him correctly. Rages were not proper for a noble and especially not for a prince. Liam had never complained. The gods had made him calm by nature but there were few times—and this was one of them—where his anger built and even his iron control lost.

The anger almost physically hurt. As if because anger was not so common for him it had to work harder to be forced from him. His hand hurt from clenching Cyril's shirt so hard and his chest hurt with emotion. He forced words from his mouth and they came out loudly. "What are you doing with my wife—your _queen_? I sh--"

"He was there for me!" Arra's voice pierced his anger. "Were were you?" She punctuated her words with a shove.

_Out romancing with a married woman_, his mind produced guiltily. With that shame he let go of Cyril but Arra wasn't done. Tears ran down a beaten face. He had seen her sad before. She still cried for Emereth and Damien and on truly bad days she still shed tears for Cobalt who had died in a skirmish in the west a few years into their reign.

But this was different. It looked like she was breaking. _Another piece of her giving up its hope, dying. And when I should be strong for her, I'm with another woman in the courtyard._ His body went limp with further sadness.

"Where were you? Hm?" She demanded as more tears mad their way down her battered cheeks.

"Oh, Arra." He came to her with open arms ready to wrap them around her and hold her. She pushed him away and turned back to the room. Did she know? Did she know where he had been while she had been with Joel? He laid his head against the wall for a moment taking a deep breath.

"S-sir?"

"Go, Cyril."

"But--"

Liam turned his gaze on the man. "Just. Go."

Inside the room Arra was on him, clinging. He tried to lift her face. She couldn't keep her secrets from him long while she looked him in the eye but she pressed harder against his chest and held her chin down. Liam did the only thing he could and held her as she cried. He put his chin on Arra's head. It took a few moments to catch the words she was whispering.

"I do love you. I do, I do. I love you Liam."

Was it horrible that after twenty years things like this happened? Liam didn't know if he could say the words back. He knew he loved Arra, always would, but could he dirty the words and say it after what had happened with Elise? He would tell her, to get it off his chest but she seemed to have her own problems and he couldn't very well pile them on could he?

He slid his fingers through her hair. "Shhh. Tell me. Tell me."

He picked her up and sat down on one of the couches in another room which put her in his lap. To stay on him she had to fold her legs on either side of his and lift her face from his chest to the crook of his neck.

"Tell me." He whispered to her again rubbing her back.

She stayed silent for moments longer her body still rigid. Then finally her body eased. The story spilled from her. She told him about Joel and how things had started out normal and how they had gone so horrible. She held him a fraction tighter when she told Liam Joel's cruel words.

Liam picked her up again. "Shh. Come lets go to bed."

He didn't feel right with his own problem weighing on him but Arra needed him right now. He kissed her cheek and left his lips there as a soft question. She turned her head and accepted. He would have to be careful and watch for her new bruises and anything worse.

Green. Green eyes burned into her vision and a voice came to her consciousness.

"I've got her."

Arra was already thrashing. Dimly, in the back of her mind she was glad she had gone to a healer before this attack. It held on tighter and tighter until she could only scratch at it. Someone was screaming. Upon opening her eyes, Arra found that the noise was her own. She stopped and fell limp in unexpected exhaustion.

Something trickled onto her arm. She looked down. Blood ran in a thin line from a thick tan arm onto her.

"Oh, Liam!" She gasped. "I'm sorry. I--"

"Nightmare?"

Arra nodded wordlessly. She untangled herself from him and went to pace. She stopped mid-step and spun just in time to see Liam fall back on his elbow with a cat-like smile. Feeling the creep of a blush made Arra's voice come out more cross than she meant. "Oh, go find a healer before you get blood on the sheets!"

The smile was still in place. "At this time? They would probably think our tastes have just...become violent."

This time the blush came full force. Arra put a hand over her eyes and turned away to continue her pacing—after she got a robe on. Liam laughed, a deep manly sound, but she heard him get off the bed all the same. He came back out of the bathroom with his arms cleaned and bandages. He stood in the way of her pacing path and held out the bandages to her. Arra took them and wrapped his arms, her mind elsewhere.

Arra knew those eyes and that voice and her stomach churned just thinking about it. Completely throwing her out of her thoughts, Arra found Liam's hand on either side of her face and his lips against hers in a soft kiss.

"And what was that for?"

Liam put his forehead against hers. "You looked like you needed it."

The smile she had fell when a knock sounded at the door.

"I need to wash up a bit and get some clothes on," Arra said. "You get...something on and answer the door."

Liam groaned in a very childlike way. "Can't we just send them away?"

"No." Was the firm answer.

Just as Arra had pulled the blue shirt over her head, Liam came in with a grim face. Though she noticed he had put on the pants he wore last night before answering the door.

"They want to see us." And he left to get properly changed. Arra sighed and rubbed her forehead. She didn't need to question who _they_ were: the advisers. Perhaps it was something very small? Arra tried to hold onto the hope but on the way to the meeting it kept slipping away from her.

The thread of hope perked up a bit when it was just Cyril. Though now that she thought about it he had seen a very emotional scene from the both of them. If there was one thing she hated, it was when people saw her at her weakest. She didn't mind Liam seeing her, he was her husband, but even then it had taken a long time for her to feel comfortable expressing such private feelings.

Luckily, the young adviser planned on skipping over the whole ordeal.

Cyril looked older than he should sitting at the long table rubbing his temples. Arra and Liam took a seat and Arra raised her brow expectantly as if saying, "Well?"

"I have been trying to tell you for days now, but both of you have...been busy." Cyril began. "So, I thought perhaps I should try before the day began."

"Out wit it Cyril, I am tired and already have a lot on my plate. I'd rather you simply told me so I can see how many more things can go wrong." Arra sighed.

"The Yamani have sent word that they are sending Princess Nozomi over. Their message arrived not too long ago but they have probably already started the journey."

Arra rested her head on her two cupped hands. Liam spoke. "I thought they weren't supposed to come for months."

"They weren't but apparently that date coincided with a sacred holiday."

"But we've already gotten everything ready so nothing to worry about right?" Liam said grasping at that same thread of hope.

"Most everything some of the small details of her arrival ball are still being taken care of. Oh, and it would be best to tell this to the Prince in a way that won't make him too...apprehensive." Cyril paused for a moment then nodded. "That is all."

Arra let Liam grasp her hand as they walked down the hall.

"So. A list." Liam said. Arra nodded. This was how they kept track of things between the two of them, any kind of problems. Big or small, they put them on the list.

"The triplets." Arra said first.

"Emereth's betrothal."

"Joel and Lianne."

Liam squeezed her hand. "Lianne is my sister and no matter how far apart we grow I will always love her. I know you love Joel. But no matter how much we want to help, that is not technically our problem."

"Fine," Arra said in a whoosh of breath. "The warring cities down in the south eastern quadrant."

"Some of the soldiers have been complaining."

"About what?" Arra demanded.

Liam shrugged. "I'll have to see to it tomorrow."

Arra was silent for a moment. "The nightmare I had."

"What bothered you about it?" Arra swallowed and shook her head. It sounded stupid in her head. It was a stupid fear. But all the same she found herself wanting to go to the place she went when life got just a bit too hectic and she needed quiet just for a few moments. It gave her those milliseconds of peace she needed to just sit and _think_.

Without any forewarning, she released Liam's hand and left down a different path. Liam must have noticed some oddness because he did not follow.

Not for the first time Arra wished she could close her eyes and float away into a sweet oblivion. No problems she had to solve because she was queen, no thoughts constantly running through her head, no pressure to be something she had wanted to reject from the very beginning.

She opened a door to a room that had been dusty since the first time she saw it. Arra had never let a servant enter this room for anything even cleaning and she never had enough time to clean it herself so it stayed in that state. Somehow it didn't seem to fit, this room without the many layers of dust from ages past. It didn't take long for her eyes to find what she stared at every time she came into this room.

Arra froze.

She walked up to it carefully and swiped a hand across the glass case. She came away with a dusty hand. This shouldn't have seemed so odd except for that in twenty years of knowing this place that case had always been pristine. She pulled her gift—a few shades darker than her crystal blue eyes—and created a light to see by.

Arra left the room and leaned against the closed door with her eyes closed. _My daughter, what have you done and where will it lead you? _

Arra ended up in the hall filled with paintings. She spotted Emereth sitting on the floor against the wall. He stood as she drew closer. She spotted the picture he stood opposite of and couldn't find the energy to make a face at it. It was a portrait made of her on her most faithful mount Ghost and her very first falcon, Cobalt.

Emereth bent and laid his chin on her shoulder as he used to do when he was younger and much shorter and hugged her. She hugged him back. "I love you, Mother."

"Should I be suspicious?" Arra said, hoping her voice wasn't too weary.

His head shook his head on her shoulder. "No. There are just some days when you look like you don't think anyone does love you and you need to be reminded."

He brought his head back with a smile on his face. She didn't know what he meant exactly but she was too tired to ask. Arra put a hand on his cheek. He was so much like his father. An old pain clasped her heart. From the day he was born she knew he would probably have to have an arranged marriage. How could she condemn her own son to something she had so heartily defied?

_Fate won in the end, I suppose. I married Liam and became queen._ Another though poked in uninvited. _It's not the end just yet._

"Now, there's that look. There is something on your mind." Emereth said. Arra put on a smile for him.

"What have you been doing in this place anyway? And looking at the worst picture here, too." Emereth looked like he wanted to say something. For almost a moment Arra thought about letting him. Even if the conversation would be somewhat embarrassing at least they'd be talking about something that wasn't business. But Arra ruined it and her voice came out. "Come, business awaits us."

Emereth, the perfect heir that he was, simply nodded.

Arra expected he would try to continue the conversation down the hall but he didn't. Perhaps she had misjudged how well he knew her? She didn't want to talk about the painting. In fact, now wasn't really a good time for talking at all and maybe Emereth sensed that. _He's gotten so many traits from Liam._ Arra thought._ I think if he had gotten too many from me he wouldn't make the good king I know he will become._

Old worries mixed with new problems and all at once Arra wanted to scream and just bundle everything up and throw it out the window. _One thing at a time. Handle one thing at a time._ She reminded herself.

A/N: Uh, the watergivers belong to me. So...Yeah. There was a lot in this chapter. I'm pretty sure there was a lot of hinting or foreshadowing so see if you can guess what might happen—or not happen or maybe almost happen later in the story.

Aww, I was reading over this (to make sure it was as close to perfect as I can get it for my wonderful readers) and I just feel so bad for Liam. He's an all around good guy (actually he's pretty much perfect but hey who's taking notes?) and he sees things falling apart around him and doesn't really know what to do. I realize _I_ have put him in this position but...well actually I don't know where I was going with that sentence.

Well! I finally finished the chapter and I'm going to sleep!

Thank you for all the reviews! Everyone! Some people send me reviews and they start out by saying something like "I'm pretty nervous about sending this..." or " something degrading to themselves. I'm going to tell you right now guy, I LOVE REVIEWS! Unless you are going to absolutely grill me about something completely retarded I will LOVE you for sending me a review. NO WORRIES!

Have no fear! **_REVIEW!_**


	12. A Path Anew

A/N: This is probably one of my favorite chapters. What happens in it I mean. Not so much the writing. haha...

**Chapter 12: A Path Anew**

Zain slowly opened his eyes. For a moment he didn't see anything. He sat up and wiped at his eyes. _No, not now._ He stood and found his fingertips tingled and shook his head again. He had been pushing it away for days and now he would pay. This one wouldn't be good.

He clenched and unclenched his hand hoping it was just an after affect from waking.

What was he doing here anyways? Hadn't his mother warned and warned him against something like this? His hand trembled and he closed it.

First and foremost his mother had always said, "We do not choose paths." Even to her deathbed she stayed adamant about that. She told him over and over. So what was he doing here? Zain splashed cold water over his burning eyes. He knew it wouldn't do much but...perhaps he could fight it for one more day at least?

_Futile_, the voice in his head borne from his mother's teachings said, _futile attempt._

Zain hit the wall. Was it so bad, really, to want what others had found? His own mother must have found _something_. Whether love or lust, Zain himself was here as a testament to what she'd done. Along with him she had passed on the curse of their family.

The air became thick and threatened to choke him. It eased momentarily. Without thinking, Zain stood and opened the door. From the look on Leon's face Zain knew he'd answered the door before the knock had sounded. Zain winced. If it had been anyone else it could have passed by as coincidence but Leon knew about him.

Leon's eyes were wide. "We were going to eat and then leave. Is today, ah, one of your...bad days?"

"I hope not." Zain answered and closed the door with a nod to Leon. He tried to change and rebraid his hair quickly but every now and then he would stumble when his eyes would stop seeing.

One of his guides years ago had said he walked like a drunk when he was near time. He walked carefully so no one would notice something especially odd with him. Somewhere in his mind he knew he was hoping that if no one else noticed something was wrong then nothing would be wrong. This might, just this once, pass him by. His mother's voice threw words at him like _futile _and _inevitable_.

The next level came up on him despite his attempts to push it back. The world and feelings became sharper. Every step sent shocks up his legs. A simple breath felt like a wind rushing in and out of him. His body felt weighed down. Zain fought to distinguish between the people walking down the hall now and those that would be walking down it in five minutes. _No, no, no, no..._

He felt Leon's hand on his elbow a few seconds before Leon grabbed him to help guide him as was his job. Zain closed his eyes when they walked into the common room of the inn. It was disconcerting to see someone sitting in a chair and at the same time see their ghost rise to talk to someone else or get a drink. Then he remembered he was trying to look as if nothing was wrong. He forced his eyes open. Leon set him down in a chair.

"Do you feel alright?" Lana's voice came to him. "Do you want something to eat?"

He had no way of knowing if she was about to say that or if the words had really been spoken. He took the safe way. He had learned that if he said something as if stating it instead of answering a question he could get away with little strangenesses. "I am not hungry."

The wind left him. The air thickened around him so he could draw no breath. He saw it like a tall wave above him. He saw it but there was no way he could really escape. The wave would come crashing down on him and leave him spinning, disoriented and lost. There was a pause and he had just enough time to think _stupid stupid stupid!_ before the air released its hold and he gasped just before the wave fell on him.

Zain lost everything. He lost all of who he was as pictures, images and feelings that were not his filled his vision. Everything rushed to him and at the same time it was all so clear. Zain fell away from the world and a part of him protested but it was a futile fight. This was inevitable.

* * *

Lana saw Zain tense and throw his head back. He gasped. His body would go slack and then just as suddenly as this had all started he would tense up from head to toe. The veins in neck pressed against the prison of skin. His fingers bent and looked like claws. Before she could get the obvious question out—what was happening?--Leon leaped up from his seat, pulled out a dagger and plunged it into Zain's arm.

Lana was standing and ready but Damien was closer. He sent Leon to the ground with a punch to the jaw. Several other patrons there rose to their feet sensing there might be a brawl. Vincent went there to calm them down. Lana went to Zain's side.

She was kneeling by his side but had no clue where to start. She knew he needed some kind of help but she didn't have any to give in this situation. The dagger was deep enough that it stood out of his arm on its own with the bandages he always wore already soaked. He hadn't even winced when Leon stabbed him.

Leon stood and wiped the blood from his chin. "That's it. I'm through. Nothing is worth this kind of crap."

He must have had his bags already packed because he went to his room got his bag and left out the door. Lana never saw him again.

Finally, Zain went completely limp and his eyes fluttered but stayed closed.

"Carry him to my room, it's the closest." Damien looked like he wanted to protest but know that this was not the time. Vincent took his legs and Damien grabbed the unconscious man at his armpits.

Lana was almost frantic. Everything had happened so fast that her mind was still reeling. Her brothers put Zain on the bed and she was at his side in seconds. "Damien go see if you can get some bandages and Vincent get some water and anything else you think might help."

She took good hold of the dagger and pulled it out before she could scare herself out of it. With it she cut off the rest of the bandages and held those over the wound. Damien came in with the bandages. "A lot of people out there are wondering what happened...well you know how people are. I told them to go away and we'd ask for anything if we needed it."

Just then the door opened. Vincent walked in carrying...nothing. He turned back and said. "'Kay children, bring it in. Be sure not to spill or drop anything."

Three boys walked in carefully. Two carrying a bowl with water in it and the third with rags. Vincent was smiling, proud of a job well done. The children filed back out making sure to get a good eyeful of Zain.

"What were you thinking Vincent?" Damien hissed after they had left.

"What?" He questioned innocently. "I needed help and they wanted to give it. It was a wonderful deal."

"Help?" Damien's voice seemed to get more calm but the other triplets knew better than to think that. "Help? It would have been help if you had carried _something_."

Vincent seemed to think about that. "Yes, your right. The deal did work out better for me than them didn't it?"

This would go nowhere. Damien would continue to try and get Vincent to understand exactly why he was annoyed and Vincent would let it slide away or just purposefully ignore it. Lana didn't have time for this. "Will the two of you stop it?"

She cleaned away most of the blood with the rags. Lana was just about to wrap it up when her eyes caught sight of his arms. She stared at it long enough for the slow flow of blood to drip to the floor. She cleaned it again and wrapped it. It took her a few moments to get her thoughts together but she finally put on a smile and ushered both brothers out.

"Aww, Lana come on!" Vincent whined while Damien grumbled.

"No, it'll be fine."

"You just want to touch him while no one's looking." Vincent said just as the door was closing. Lana didn't want to open the door just to say that, no, she didn't but it would have been too much hassle.

Lana pulled a chair up beside the bed. She swiped at her misty eyes. What could lead someone to do that to themselves? Lana reached out one hand and took hold of Zain's. His fingers were slender, almost feminine. Her eyes went to his face. She traced the contours with her eyes taking in every detail from the curve of his lips to the dark lashes against his cheekbones. Before she knew what she was doing her other hand was pushing back tendrils of loose hair.

With that small touch his head jerked to the side with a gasp and his hand clenched around hers as if feeling there was someone there. He thrashed a bit eyes bursting open. Lana thought that he would calm after he realized it was her but he looked at her with unseeing black eyes. Lana gasped. Someone had poured pitch into his beautiful eyes.

"Zain? It's me." Lana said softly.

"Lana?" His voice was soft too. He stared up at the ceiling.

"Are you okay?" His head moved slowly from side to side and his eyes closed like he was in pain. His hand slackened around hers. Zain pulled away from her. She could feel it before he turned on his side and curled up. There was a fine trembling in his body.

The small movement made a part of Lana sink. She frowned not knowing what to do. She did the only thing she could think of and pulled the blanket that had been shoved to the end of the bed over him. She touched his shoulder lightly and before she could try and get something out of him she felt him stiffen under her touch.

Lana pulled away whispering, "Sorry."

His hand shot out. It looked like he was trying to grab hers but he missed. Zain sighed and with it some tension went out of his body. "It's not--I didn't mean--" He sighed again. "I'm blind, Lana."

Forgetting she had moved and the chair was no longer behind her Lana fell to the ground with surprise.

* * *

A/N: I'm sure by now you must be seeing some reoccuring things with me. I'm working on being different but ... Rome wasn't built in a day!

Please tell me what you think. Love to hear it in a...you guessed it (probably, anyways)...a **_REVIEW!_**


	13. Wound Me

A/N: This took me so long. SO LONG. So for those of you still reading, instead of my customary middle to short length I decided to give you a long one as apology. Forgive me. Read. Enjoy. Review.

**Chapter 13: Wound Me**

Lana swallowed hard. Of all the words that were jumbling around her head, only one, and probably the least intelligent of them all, came out. "What?"

"I am blind."

"Wh-H--M--?" Lana shut her mouth before idiocy fell from her lips. She stood up and took a deep breath. Any noble worth their salt would not be caught with words like that coming from their mouth. And she was a princess! "Blind? What do you mean?"

Or a question like that.

"As in I can't see." Zain's voice was patient as if he had experience in bringing such shocking news.

Maybe she should try for a better question? "Have you been blind all the time?"

"I think that in some ways my life would be better if I had been blind from the beginning." The question did nothing to slake off some of the confusion. In fact, it added to it.

One thing at a time. "So, is that a no?"

"Perhaps I should have just said I lost my sight." He said. "I take it Leon has already left?"

"Yes. Though I can't figure why he would--" She stopped halfway through her sentence. "How did you know he had left?"

"I...can See."

"Really?" She leaned over. His eyes were black now. Before they had been the lightest gray, so clear she thought she would be able to see the future. Now they were opaque. Hidden. His eyes didn't move to notice her. They stayed blank and unfocused. She let out a small sigh which made air blow gently on his face.

He caught her face with both hands. He was smiling a bit but like most the smiles she saw from him it was a torn smile. A smile that carried pain while it held some semblance of happiness. "Not with these eyes. Not now."

Lana had the urge to hug him, kiss him, do anything that would make the pain disappear from his eyes. It seemed wrong that his beautiful face should be marred by a broken smile like that one. Just the sight of it made tears swell in her eyes. "What do you mean then?"

Lana put her hands over his which rested on each of her cheeks. Just as she did so a single tear rolled down her nose and dripped onto his face. He blinked and as if he had been reminded of something he removed his hands from her. She didn't know if he knew or had any possible idea why she was crying. It bothered some men to see women crying. Perhaps it was something the gods built them with. Though for some men it was just the fact that they found themselves uncomfortable around a crying woman.

Zain didn't seem surprised she was crying. In fact it seemed like he expected it.

"I See the future." He went on to answer her question.

She sat back in the chair wiping her eyes. Her voice showed no hint of the tears. "Would you like to elaborate?"

"I think the, ah, explanation should be saved until your brothers can hear it, too." Zain closed his eyes and sighed. His voice was soft just as it always was, soothing almost. Despite the fact that it fit him so well it seemed like the voice was part something else. A piece of him was part something else, something of magic and possibilities. Lana shook her head not understanding her thoughts.

"I'll bring them here in a little while. You rest a bit." Zain gave a small nod and she stood. Just as she exited the door a shiver ran up her spine. The presence in the back of her mind sort of shivered with excitement. Lana caught a faint reasoning for the reaction. She picked up one fragment of a thought just before it was closed off to her. _Sees the future...such power._

Lana pushed that away for now but shed think about it later. She checked her brother's rooms to find neither of them there. Next thing on her list was to check the common room. They were there.

Damien was facing away from her and Vincent was placed just so that if he looked up he would have seen her. A sudden thought came into her head. A grin pulled at her lips. She moved slowly, creeping up behind him.

Vincent looked up and raised his brows only slightly. Lana put a finger over her lips to indicate she didn't want him to give her away. He continued talking. "I didn't know they were sending over the princess to Karucia so soon."

"Perhaps Mother forgot to mention it to us?" Damien said.

"Possible but not likely." Vincent said nodding.

"I thi--" Lana cut him off by using one hand to cover both his eyes. She kept the other hand free having a feeling she was going to need it.

Something like a growl escaped Damien. He grabbed her arm and squeezed. Just before it began to hurt unbearably Lana brought her other hand to slap his face. He let go when she started laughing.

"Lana." He growled.

She came around, took a loose chair from another table and sat in it.

She sighed. Vincent or Damien would have noticed that it looked like she was crying. Neither would say anything though. They knew her too well for that. "I wish we could contact Emereth to see how he's faring. I know he didn't know she was being sent over before we left."

A ghost of a smile came to Damien's face. "I think we can guess at his reaction."

"He'll be a bit anxious." Vincent said nodding.

"But he'll take it well because he's like that." Lana put in. "He's so ready for the crown it scares me sometimes."

Damien nodded.

Lana frowned. "I miss my Emmie." Vincent snickered at the nickname Lana loved to use but Emereth hated to hear. "He needs someone to be there to help him through this. Just because he knows what he has to do doesn't mean he-he..."

Lana shook her head. Why was she crying so much today? She let out a wet laugh. "I'm sorry."

"You aren't regretting that we left are you?" Vincent pushed a handkerchief under her turned down face.

"I don't think so." She answered truthfully enough. "I want to be here. It's just odd being so far away and on the other side of the information going there."

"That's not all is it?" Damien prodded.

Lana sniffed but was sure no more tears would come. "Emmie's there and--well hopefully by now he knows the princess is coming--but who is he supposed to turn to? He's the Crown Prince so there isn't really anyone to talk to about it. I'd make him tell me but I'm not there am I? And neither are the two of you. I know I'd hate to be in his position. Feeling so alone."

She wrapped her arms around herself. Loneliness reminded her of something in Zain's eyes.

"But Lana--" Vincent began.

"--We're different from Emereth." Damien finished.

"Because there's three of us and only one of him. He's always needed himself to be whole." Vincent continued.

"And we need the three of us to be whole." Damien said.

"So what you're saying is I don't really understand because I've always had you two?" Lana said trying for a smile. "That because we've always been together--"

Vincent smiled. "Then of course the thought of being as 'alone' as Emereth would shake you up a bit."

"We've always been together." The triplets said together. Lana nodded.

"While that may be true." Lana said. "Don't downplay that Emereth would miss us at all in a situation like this one."

* * *

Emereth wanted to be alone. To be able to think--or not think--about his situation. Who was he kidding? How could he think of anything but his betrothal?

His mother had told him a couple days ago that Princess Nozomi was already on her way. When the news first came to him his reaction had been nothing spectacular. He had nodded. Arra had seemed surprised but let him leave her presence. What was there to be surprised or shocked about? He'd known he was going to marry a Yamani princess and now it was upon him. Simple. That was it. It had always been planned and now it was happening.

Well, that's what he repeated in his head over and over again after that. It was exactly what was happening. It was true. But it wasn't comforting.

Anxiety set in days after. As if because of the strength it took to be prince it had taken days for the information to penetrate down to his core. It had succeeded which was why he wanted to be alone right now.

A small smile curved his lips. If Lana saw him right now, sprawled on his bed with his sleeping clothes still on at noon, she'd have jumped on him and kept it up till he decided to rise for the day.

But nobody had bothered him at all. He had no delusions that everyone forgot about him. No one would, especially with the triplets gone and the events beginning to zero in on him. Emereth just had a feeling that his mother had told everyone to leave him be for a while. For that he was grateful but he might have felt better if he could spill any fears and nerves he had to someone.

Emereth rolled over on his stomach. He put his face in the pillow and groaned.

If anyone thought he would try something to ruin the betrothal they were wrong. When Princess Nozomi's boat reached Karucian shores he would be there to greet her. He would be polite and accept her into Karucia. He would even try his best to like her and if possible have her like him back.

Today was just the day he needed to let himself panic about it.

He rolled back over and threw one arm over his eyes. Emereth had kept himself from flirting with any of the court ladies. That wasn't to say he didn't try when he had first reached the age to want a woman and be in court. When he found out he would have to be betrothed to someone from the Yamani Isles he stopped. It hadn't seemed right somehow.

Lana went through a phase where she was absolutely fascinated with the reactions she could produce from men. She grew out of it in time, quite a bit of time, after that she kept any romances under better protection.

Vincent had always attracted the lady folk with his humor and looks. He liked the attention and flirted freely. No past tense there, he still did when he could.

Damien. Even watching closely, Emereth could catch nothing from him. Neither flirting nor favoritism among the women (or men for that matter). If he had any romances among the court, Damien kept his secret.

It wasn't pleasant thinking, or every now and then accidentally seeing, his sister and brothers kissing or touching others. Emereth just watched out for his younger siblings. It was his job as the eldest. A job that would someday encompass all of Karucia.

His nerves wound so tight he eventually drifted off to sleep, his body doing the only thing it could after being so tense for a long time. He woke up when the door to his room opened. The light through the windows was orange with the late sun and he sighed. He'd spent the whole day here.

Arra walked in. She went straight to his closet and pulled out the simplest clothes he had. She threw them on the bed. "I let you brood in here for the day. Was it any fun?"

"No." He croaked, voice heavy and more sluggish with a daytime nap than any night sleep could bring.

"Did it make you feel any better?"

He rolled on his side and groaned. "No."

"Remember it. Brooding never makes you feel better. Now get up and change. I'll be waiting just outside your chambers." She started walking away to the door. "I mean it. " She called behind her.

Emereth sat up reluctantly. He changed into the clothes his mother had chosen out and went to the sink in the next chamber over. He splashed water on his face and washed out his mouth. He took his wet hands and smoothed back his hair, which got it mildly under control. He walked out and just like she said, Arra was waiting for him at his door.

"Come on, we'll go to the kitchens to eat. Don't tell your father I didn't remind us to dine with him and the advisers." She smiled and he could see a space between the edge of her lips that suggested she was close to a grin. As long as he'd been alive she had never grinned. Smiles all the way but no grin.

He smiled though. Sad thing was his mother probably wasn't joking. He raised his brows after a moment. "Are _you_ telling _me_ to eat?"

"I'll not have you talking to me like that, young man." Her voice was stern but she smiled to let him know he meant it lightly. "And besides according to your father I--we--_need_ to eat. An odd thought, that." She paused and flicked her crystal blue eyes to him. "_Are_ you hungry?"

He paused to think about it and give her a true answer. "No."

Arra nodded. "You get that from me. In the very least I'll make you eat."

"Don't worry, I'll make you eat too."

"And that," She grumbled. "you get from your father."

Emereth noticed she, too, was dressed in simple clothes. It reminded him of a story that passed around the palace and was still told every now and then.

In the beginning of her reign, Arra had cleaned out the staff. Not all of them, of course, that would have been near impossible, but she did interview each of them and spent time with them to see if maybe she could trust them. When she started doing this some of the staff had run away before their appointment with her which just proved that some of them weren't as trustworthy as Arra would have liked.

She even interviewed the replacements. No one expected the Queen herself to perform such a lowly job. So when people came in to work for the palace they weren't expecting the queen to interview them herself. Even the ones who had been told she would didn't believe it because...well the only place that information would be good in would be a joke.

So even after Arra hired the replacements and they worked in the palace they still did not believe the woman who had interviewed them was the queen. Arra knew this and visited them, probably more often than she should have.

One of the cooks had even told Arra after a while that he had worked in the palace for two months and still not seen the queen. He'd seen the King on occasion but the Queen was a tricky one.

"What are you thinking about?" Arra said breaking the train of thought. She could have asked because she was curious but Emereth thought it was because she didn't want him to start brooding again.

"I was thinking about--" He paused because it usually wasn't good form to tell someone of the stories about them. He shrugged. She had asked. "Do you remember that story people tell about you and the cooks?"

"Which one?"

Emereth raised his brows as they turned down one of the corridors. There was more than one? "Re-staffing the kitchens."

A rare involuntary smile came over her. "That's a fun one. What made you think of that?"

"The way you're dressed and where we're going." He said. "It seems kind of like you try to be as regular as you can around them."

Arra shrugged. "It sometimes still surprises them if I come decked out in queen garb."

"Not that you like to be that way anyways." Emereth remarked.

"I'll tell you something, Emereth." Her voice was soft enough that he knew her next words would be truthful. "Dressing like this, simple as I can, is for me as much as it is for them. They treat me normal because they did not know me as a queen first and it was easier to continue as we had than to backtrack into formalities. I dress like this because I'm comfortable in it and they are comfortable seeing me in it."

She smiled a little sadly and shook her head. "It's become a reflex to say something along the lines of 'Call me Arra.' I constantly tell them not to call me Majesty or Queen. In the kitchens, they don't bother and I like that." She laughed suddenly and loudly. "For weeks they continued to question me as to what _I_ did in the palace."

Emereth found it ironic that she had problems with eating and yet one of her favorite places to be was the kitchen. "It's all right...Arra."

Arra moved too fast for him to react. She landed a blow just above both his knees which made them give. He went down to his knees and might have fallen back if Arra hadn't grabbed him where his neck met the back of his skull. She looked down into his eyes. "I am always mother, or any variation of that, to you."

Emereth smiled.

The chief cook,Warain, grinned when Arra entered the room. "Arra! You look positively scrawny. Get in here and I'll see what I can scrounge up for you!"

Everyone else smiled, waved, or called out hellos. None of them stopped working though, they continued to knead doe, whisk contents in bowls, and chop. Arra didn't seem bothered by the fact that they didn't give her the attention a queen deserved. Emereth followed in behind her.

Warain's grin faltered. He put down the large cooking knife he'd been holding and bowed. "Prince Emereth."

Others were about to bow or show some kind of recognition. Before he could protest Arra spoke. "Knock it off. Give us some food! Don't waste time with silly frivolities like that."

Warain laughed and picked up his knife again. "I like you Arra. If you weren't married..."

Arra laughed, too. "Think awful highly of yourself don't you?"

After they had eaten, Emereth had new thoughts to fill his head. Whenever he came to the kitchens, they always bowed and he'd never thought anything of it. Today, comparing their reaction to him and their reaction to his mother he'd felt awkward. Had he ever entered gone into the kitchens with her before?

"It's good for your people to like you." Arra said suddenly. "It's good if they respect you but if they like you it just might get you farther."

He understood now. He nodded. She'd brought him here to teach him another lesson. But it seemed more like she was trying to ease him into the position she'd made for herself at the palace.

"I may not be a very good queen but even I know simple ways to not destroy myself."

Emereth wasn't sure his mouth could have stayed closed if he had tried. "I don't think I've ever heard anyone speak bad of you or say you are anything but a good queen."

She smiled. "I rely on Liam a lot. The two of us together put up a strong front or maybe he's just my strong front." She shrugged as if it were no more than the truth. "And don't tell anyone I called myself a bad queen. If people hear the queen doesn't think she's right to be queen I would be hurting my own power base."

Arra eventually was called away for business but just before she left she gave him directions, "Meet me tomorrow on the practice fields at dawn and two hours before dusk." At the quizzical look on his face she continued. "I may not be Lana but I'll manage to get you off your moping ways somehow."

And he had a feeling he knew exactly how she would do it.

* * *

Zain opened his eyes to a darkness that had become ritual. Which Path would he choose? He'd come this far. He could leave now, it wasn't too late. He would have to find a new guide though. And even now his mother's teachings pressed in against him and what he wanted, what he'd dreamed about.

He couldn't do this. He'd done enough already. But the possibilities...they were open to him. Why would he have these visions if he wasn't supposed to do anything important with them? Doubts filled his mind.

The door opened and even before she spoke Zain knew who it was. He had, after all, Seen it already. "Zain?" Lana whispered into the room. "Are you feeling any better?"

Better? Better than what? "I am fine."

"I brought Vincent and Damien."

Zain nodded. He might have sat up but his bones still felt weak like they still had not fully returned from all of the visions. At the same time, it didn't feel right to be laying in such a helpless position. "Can you help me sit up, please?"

"Of course." Vincent said.

Strong arms took his elbows and shoulders and vaulted him into a sitting position. His face contorted in pain. A picture of Lana slid in behind his blindness. She was wincing in sympathy. That small image made him sigh.

"Anything you'd like to start with?" Zain asked somewhat resigned.

Lana would have started with the scars but Damien beat her to the punch. "Why did you seize in the common room?"

Lana watched him. Black eyes moved from one side to the other, back and forth as if he had made a list and he was deciding what information to give and what not to.

"I have the Sight." He finally said. "Or a version of it. I have...overwhelming visions."

"Visions of what?" Vincent's voice held a tenderness that could wipe away anyone's doubt of his sensitivities.

"Anything." Zain whispered. "Future, past, present."

Visions of the future were the hardest on his mind. The possibilities would flood him. But the past and present hurt his heart to see. They had either happened or were happening. It was one string, one path to follow but there was nothing to be done to change it.

Everyone paused. Zain's hands clenched. Damien spoke up first again. He spoke softly. "Lana tells us you are blind?"

He nodded. "For every vision I have I am blinded for a period of time. It...is impossible to tell for how long."

It was as if because he'd seen more than he should have, the Fate sisters blinded him. He couldn't remember how many times he'd asked his mother why did it have to be this way? or how many unhelpful answers he'd gotten from her.

Lana badly wanted to ask about the scars that ran up and down his forearms. Something about just going out and asking about them made her think twice. All manner of questions entered her mind about those scars. Had he done them himself, a sort of self mutilation? But then why had Leon immediately gone to him and stabbed him in that area? Was it just chance that he had landed the blow in a place already full of old wounds?

She rubbed across her forehead. Deciding what she would do, she took Vincent and Damien's wrists into her hands and squeezed. When they looked at her, she motioned towards the door with a jerk of her head telling them to leave. Vincent stood immediately.

"I need to check on some things. Feel better Zain." Vincent tugged a reluctant Damien to his feet. "I'll take Damien with me just in case it turns out I'm not smart enough to...check up on the horses."

He had ended that sentence lamely and Lana closed her eyes feeling it. Actually, from the beginning his excuse had been a disaster but it got him out of the room and that's what Lana's aim had been. The door let out a snick as it closed. Lana waited until she was sure they had left.

Zain seemed to wait patiently. His shocking black eyes looked blankly ahead which gave the impression that he was staring at her. Looking at him now, every muscle relaxed and his hands resting on his lap, she couldn't believe he would do this to himself. He didn't seem the type. _Who am I to judge so easily? _

For some reason, she had expected to have more time to come up with a way to sort out those thoughts. Maybe because somewhere in her head she hadn't expected Zain to know she was there. It was a stupid thought but it was there all the same. So when he spoke she jumped with surprise, just a bit.

"You must have something on your mind." Zain managed to make it both a statement and gentle prodding for her to speak.

"The, ah, scars on your arm, Zain," She began softly, uncertain on the proper tone to take because she was uncertain of the origins of all those old wounds. And then the words were pouring from her. "Please don't tell me you do this to yourself. Or was it Leon? He's gone now, so that's okay. Just..."

The very small smile on his face made her stop. Part of the reason she knew he had the smile was the dimple showing on his left cheek.

"This is serious to me! It may not be important but you can't let someone do that, even yourself!"

"I-I do not find it humorous." And upon closer inspection his smile had an edge to it. "I..."

He shook his head, dropped the sentence and left it at that. Lana was not content with that, however. "No, no. Tell me what that smile was then. Tell me, please."

Again there was that smile, a smile that held undertones of old pain. "It has been a while since I have met someone who would have...cared so much about these scars of mine. No, perhaps cared isn't the right word."

"Cared is the right word. I care." Lana said with feeling.

"Ah." Zain looked down and away. Lana thought she saw a faint blush on his cheeks but she didn't study it too long. He continued to speak. "I will need you to do something for me before I tell you about my scars."

For a moment, Lana was scared as to what he might ask. She quickly threw that specific fear away. It wasn't right to assume and Zain didn't seem the kind of person to ask _that_ of her. "What is it? I have to know before I agree."

"I seem to need a new guard. Will you and your brothers be my new guide?" Lana was ready to say, yes of course but Zain didn't let her just yet. "You must know what the job entails. When my blindness comes you will have to lead me, guide me. And when it is not there you must stay with me and wait."

She licked her lips, not liking that his tone implied something worse to come. "Wait for what?"

"Wait until I have another attack, another vision, and when I do I'll need you to wound me." His voice had dropped and dropped until he was whispering. It didn't seem like he whispered because what he was asking was horrifying to him but because, it seemed, he feared how horrendous it would seem to her.

* * *

A/N: Wow. I think this is the longest chapter I have ever posted on I hope I still have some readers left...is there anybody out there? If so PLEASE REVIEW!! Let me know you read or even look at this still! (heck, right about now I'm willing to accept flames...almost). 


	14. Interlude

A/N: The title is not entirely accurate. These are more clips from a time that I just can't find a place for in the flow of the story but they still add to it. If anyone remembers what word was used instead of museum (the used a different word right?) I'd appreciate the correction!

READ::ENJOY::

**Chapter 14(INTERLUDE): A Collection of Memories**

Lana. Age: 7

Arra. Age: 29

_"No!" Lana shouted at Vincent. "Leave it alone!"_

_"We weren't going to hurt it!"_

_"Nuh-uh!" She ran away. _

_"Lana come back here!" _

_"No!" She held the small creature with two cupped hands one over the other. "You shouldn't be hurting anything!"_

_"But. We. Weren't!" He shouted back but Lana was already running away the prize he had worked so hard to capture. He growled and kicked at the dirt._

_Lana managed to make it all the way to her mother's rooms. "Mama!"_

_"Oh! I thought you would have been taught better! Knock first!" The queen herself lifted Lana up and swung her around to drop her on the bed. It was only then she realized that her mother was only wearing underclothes as she'd been changing. "And what is that in your hand? Give it to me."_

_Lana handed over the little frog. Arra took it and put it in an empty basin._

_Arra went to pick up the clothes she had been about to put on. Lana saw the skin her mother never showed, pale and scarred. And that was only her back. All of her body was covered in marks. _

_"Mama, where did you get those?" _

_"Get what, dear, be specific." _

_"The scars."_

_"Aha. I see." Arra slipped her legs into a pair of breeches. "I'll make you a deal. You can ask about, hm, let's say two and I'll tell you about them."_

_There were faint, but still present, curved scars on the outside of her upper arm running up and down her left arm. "What about these?"_

_"Technically, those are more than one but since they all came to be at once I'll count it as one." Arra smiled. "I got those from stormwing feathers."_

_Lana giggled a bit. "Why did you let one get so close?"_

_"Oh, I never said it was a stormwing." Arra held up one finger as if pointing out a discrepancy. "There was a silly old hedgewitch who thought she could gather more power if she could kill powerful people with stormwing feathers."_

_"She attacked you?" Lana's hazel eyes were wide. Attack the queen?_

_Arra nodded. "Oh, yes. How she had gotten so many I can't tell but she must have at least a hundred and she fashioned them into a fan that looked like the jaws of a shark. Do you remember what a shark is?"_

_"Of course. We have some of their jaws in our museum. They live in the sea." Lana stated knowledgeably._

_"Yes. Well she attacked me with them." Arra was in a stance now trying to replay it for her daughter. Her hand was out as if holding something and she had one leg in front of the other spread apart. "The hedgewitch lunged forward, like this." And Arra demonstrated._

_Lana, so absorbed in the story, asked. "Did she get you?"_

_"Only barely." She shrugged. "She got the tips of them into my skin but that was enough and then she sort of twisted away." _

_Arra demonstrated that too. _

_Lana laughed. When she finally had control over her giggles she looked at the other scars. There was big interesting one that reminded her of a snake curling up her mother's right arm but she didn't ask about that one. Instead she pointed to her mother's aged but muscled stomach. "Those?"_

_"Why, those are proof that you are mine and no one else's." Arra laughed and touched the stretch marks. "Now, shouldn't you be somewhere? Don't jump on your brothers anymore though! If I hear them complain one more time I may have to show them how to defend themselves against you for good."_

_"Awww, mama." Lana left the room all the same in a good mood._

* * *

Iruko. Age: Unknown 

Senior Zain. Age: 27

Zain the younger. Age: 4 hours

_The new father looked down at his son. One would have expected him to be overjoyed, excited, and maybe a little nervous at the prospect of the very small thing in front of him. Instead his face was hard, features drawn in and his hands clenched until his knuckles were mottled._

_His voice was low and venomous when he spoke. "He's like you isn't he?"_

_"H-he might be. It's too early to tell." Answered the mother from the bed. Her black hair was stuck to her face with sweat, she was pale and her voice had been week. Despite that she had a new light in her gray eyes that only a mother can have._

_The man's lips drew into a tight line. "And if he is he'll need the same _care_ you do?"_

_"Most probably." Her voice had gone soft and careful._

_"I had hoped...," He stopped and shook his head. He stayed silent with an internal struggle for long moments. He closed blue eyes and raked fingernails through his blond hair. "I-"_

_"What is it Zain?" Her voice was still soft, careful but now she was pleading. "Tell me."_

_Both paused as the new babe took a long shaky sigh but he didn't wake from his sleep._

_"Iruko, I've-I care about you and...and..." His face took that hard look again. "You have made me do some horrible things. Things that make me hate myself. If our child was like you I," He shook his head again. "I couldn't handle it. I won't."_

_"You won't have to." She could see signs of what he was getting to and the desperation in her voice took over. "Please."_

_"And I won't stay to watch you harm him either. I have to go." He turned away but his hand over his eyes and took one shaky breath. And just like that he walked out of the room._

_Iruko rose up from the bed. Her body protested but her heart urged her on. She tried to stand and run to the door, tears already streaming down her face. She fell. She kept going though, rising and stumbling to a fall again and again until she made it to the door. Her fingers dug into the door jamb and she gave a low groan. "Don't leave," She whispered in Yamani. Then in Common she cried. "Don't leave me, Zain! Gods, please, don't leave!" _

_She sobbed and leaned her face against the harsh wood a sound came from her that was all feeling being wrenched from her being. Zain's shoulder's were hunched and stiff but he kept on walking. Leaving. The same heartbroken sound came from her, louder this time ending in a scream. It was the last cry that woke up the baby. His cries matched hers and after some moments the mother's cries died. Still sobbing silently she knew where she was needed, what she had to do. She went to her child._

_For years she would cry to herself, but not in front of her child. His life would be full of enough hardships but she'd teach him what she could._

* * *

Iruko. Age: Unknown 

Zain. Age: Believed to be around 6

_Pictures, images of the dead and dying imprinted themselves into his mind forever to be in his memory. He felt something outside of it all. It was very far away. The pictures kept on coming and his mind dropped the other distraction._

_A voice outside the images came to him. "No, no my son. Come to the pain. Let it guide you out."_

_The voice was soft but somehow he caught it and held on to it. He felt the twinge again outside the horrid pictures. If the images were a veil then that was a way out of it. Fighting against pictures he would always remember he made it back to himself. Even when he was fully himself again he kept his eyes shut. The only way he knew the images were part of his memory and not vision was they replayed over and over again and they weren't new._

_It took him a while to feel the pain in his arm and still a little more after that when he realized something warm was on his pants. He was whimpering. He opened his eyes and still he did not see._

_With his left hand he felt his right arm. He gasped when he found the wound leaking blood. "Mom, what--I'm bleeding!"_

_"Zain listen to me--"_

_"I-I can't see!" He moaned and put his face in his hands. "I can see _them_ still. They were dying. Dead. Oh, gods."_

_He began to rock. His mother, Iruko, wrapped her arms around him and held him close to him. "This is how it will have to be my cursed son."_

_Her fingers were stroking his face and there was something sticky on them. He turned his head. He caught the scent of blood on her hand. He pushed her away. _

_"You cut me!" His voice cracked, not wanting to believe and horrified. "Why? Wh-what did I do?"_

_Iruko put her hand over her mouth and shed two silent tears. She looked down at her only child, her precious son. His dark hair was flat against his skull with sweat. His arm was red with blood as was his shirt where it had spattered across his clothes from his harsh movements and it was smeared across his face. _

_He didn't look at her because he couldn't find her with his eyes. He looked lost and betrayed._

_She wiped away the tears. What cruel god would have a mother harm her own child just so he could live?_

* * *

A/N: Okay, send in the reviews, PLEASE. 

Angry because this wasn't what you wanted? Tell me!

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Read it, liked it (or hated it), tell me that. You don't even have to give me a reason ( though if you didn't like it I'd kind of want to know. I'm always trying to improve)! It's that simple!

REVIEW PLEASE!


	15. Innocence of the Child

A/N: Wow. You know what I just realized? No, nevermind if I tell you guys that...well lets just say you'll be very, very mad. So! Forgive me, read and enjoy! Even though the last chapter was an interlude this one starts where chapter 13 left off. Because its my fault you probably forgot what happened in that chapter I put the end of the last one at the beginning of this one. Okay, there you go.

**Chapter 15: Innocence of the Child**

_For a moment, Lana was scared as to what he might ask. She quickly threw that specific fear away. It wasn't right to assume and Zain didn't seem the kind of person to ask that of her. "What is it? I have to know before I agree."_

_"I seem to need a new guard. Will you and your brothers be my new guide?" Lana was ready to say, yes of course but Zain didn't let her just yet. "You must know what the job entails. When my blindness comes you will have to lead me, guide me. And when it is not there you must stay with me and wait."_

_She licked her lips, not liking that his tone implied something worse to come. "Wait for what?"__  
_

_"Wait until I have another attack, another vision, and when I do I'll need you to wound me." His voice had dropped and dropped until he was whispering. It didn't seem like he whispered because what he was asking was horrifying to him but because, it seemed, he feared how horrendous it would seem to her._

"Zain I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to let anyone hurt you."

Zain smiled. So she wanted to protect him? Would she protect him from everything? It was a sweet thought. It spoke of a precious innocence. It was something that made his smile drop. How could he ask this of her? It might not be something that would tear away her innocence but it would chip at it.

Her voice was sweet. It wasn't something that was thick and sweet like honey. Something pure and light. With those words he could almost, just almost, see her eyes shining at him. It was something that made him feel warm. As if he could huddle around her like one would around a fire on a cold night and she would be keep him alive.

He put a hand on his face. Gods, this was wrong. So wrong. Simply being around him would ruin her. Break her. He knew that as surely as the sky was above and the land below.

Zain felt slender calloused hands on his each side of his jaw.

"Don't sink into yourself like that." She chuckled lightly. "My mother always told me it's unhealthy to stay inside your head. Which is odd because I'm pretty sure she does it a lot. Well, maybe that just proves she knows what she's talking about..."

Zain smiled. It wasn't the best of smiles because he still held on to his pain but Lana loved seeing it.

"You seem to be following your mother's advice very closely."

Was that...? Lana couldn't stop her grin. "Is that a sense of humor I'm seeing?"

She stood from her position on the edge of the bed and stretched. "I'm hungry. I've been too worried about you to eat until now. You'll probably need something, too." Without a second thought she bent back down and grabbed his hand and turned away as if she would pull him from the bed. He didn't budge but he did give her hand a squeeze.

Lana stopped. "Oh, you want me to bring you food? That's alright then. I should have thought of that myself."

"It's not that." Lana gave her hand an experimental tug but Zain didn't let go. She laughed a little nervously.

"Zain," Her voice was gently chiding. "if you aren't hungry I still am so if you would..."

He wanted to keep her there because there was unfinished business but he didn't. He let her fingers slip away and could practically feel the relief coming off of her. She knew. She was avoiding details she thought were insignificant now. Or maybe she thought she could fix him, help him like he didn't know what he was doing to himself.

Zain flopped back onto the bed and threw his arm over his face. So when exactly would be a good time to make her, maybe them, understand? It's not like she was making it easy either.

* * *

"You know," Vincent began. Damien waited but it didn't seem his brother was going to continue.

"Well?" Damien finally prodded with just a touch of annoyance.

"Hm? What? Oh, right." Vincent said coming back to himself with a little chuckle. "I was just thinking maybe this Zain fellow is a lot trickier than we thought. I mean, he does have our sister all to himself in that room right now."

Damien didn't say a word. A dark look came over his face and he rose from his seat. Vincent pulled him back into his seat with a laugh. "I don't mean it, honest. Well, half. I don't mean it fully. Oh come on, he's blind and hurt. What's he going to do to her?"

Damien set his jaw and didn't say anything but he didn't move either. He couldn't say in words what he knew in his head. Perhaps Zain couldn't hurt her body but Lana had always been soft. In some ways it seemed like nothing could get through that part of her like her ignorance or innocence (and it was sometimes considered blatant stupidity from time to time). But Zain seemed just the type to be able to get through.

He was...

Lana was...

The words didn't come to him and he couldn't finish his sentence and since he couldn't finish the thought he found no reason why he should try to convey it to Vincent. Vincent would probably neither care nor understand. Even as the thought crossed his mind he saw Vincent's eyes wandering to a maid here and there.

Sixteen, but Vincent had just enough charm or something else that the maid probably couldn't help but look back. This of course brought smile to Vincent's face and Damien knew that whatever deep moment his brother might have had was lost for another time.

* * *

Lana avoided going back to the room for the rest of the day. She had told herself that she needed to think. And yet by day's end she couldn't remember the thoughts that had passed her by. Surely she'd had them but she couldn't remember them.

She walked back into the room, her room, glad to find Zain asleep. She sat on the floor and pulled one of her packs to her. she opened it up and stared at what she found. Even in the dark the blade seemed to almost glow pale like the moon. She stared at it and sighed.

Would Zain still be able to help her like he had promised when they had first met?

Immediately, Lana filled with shame. How could she think that? He was going through a lot right now. Looking down at the sword she couldn't help but lick her lips in excitement. The sword looked so plain, so smooth and yet something about it screamed exotic and otherworldly.

Her hand literally itched to touch it. She wanted to grab the hilt hold it tight and swing it into flesh. The blood would look nice contrasting the white of the sword...

Her hand had been inches away from the sword before she pulled it back, the image too strong. Somehow she knew it was not her thought. She also knew it wasn't the sword compelling her to want that, to feel that. Her breathing was deep, her heart thumped loud and her eyes were wide. She took joy in the art of fighting but never, never the killing.

_"Sorry_."

The word floated into her thoughts like cobwebs on the wind. Exhaustion, sudden and momentary, came over her. She knew it was Uncle sending her the sensation like a question.

_"Sleep."_ The word came even more bare than before. It was more like the wind the cobweb was carried on. _"Sleep so I may talk more easily w--i---th...you."_

She was still shaken from the joy she had felt in her very bones at the thought of blood and flesh. For the first time since she had stared at her own hand in horror because it had moved independently from her, she was afraid. Why hadn't she told Vincent or Damien?

Lana licked her lips but this time because of her fear, not excitement. Would the believe her? Of course they would, they would understand. They would know if she lied or not. They would see how serious she was. So why hadn't she told them before now? The servants had told her stories of people who had heard voices. They were--

_"Those people were crazy or cursed. You are not. Please. Sleep. Let me talk with you. Explain..."_

She was tired. Sleep sounded good. But where would she sleep? Zain was in her bed. Damien and Vincent were already asleep by then and they cherished their sleep more than Lana so she didn't want to wake them.

Her eyes crept slowly away from the sword in front of her to the bed beside her. The bed was not so narrow as some of the ones she'd seen at other inns...

She shook her head. What was she thinking? Were those her thoughts? She rubbed her temples. Maybe the security and comfort of a bed was just that alluring. Lana wrapped the sword back up, careful not to touch it though she wanted to, and left the room. She walked upstairs and a few doors down where Damien and Vincent were sleeping. She unlocked the door with just a little bit of magic.

Damien jerked awake.

"Shh. Go to sleep, Damien." He gave grunt. She saw a dark shadow she thought was his head bob up and down then flop back down on the pillow. Vincent didn't move an inch.

Lana decided to bunk with Vincent. Damien had more bulk on him where Vincent was a bit thinner and besides Damien was a cover hog. She climbed in with him. He woke with one deep breath through his nose.

"Wha'?" That seemed to be as much as he was going to get out.

He had two pillows under his head. She pulled the bottom one out and and his head fell, still cushioned on the other pillow. "Go to sleep."

He groaned and rolled over, his questioned answered in its own way. He pulled some of the cover out from under his body and threw it over her. It was extremely warm. So much so that she had to bare one leg out of it. It was nice though. Almost like being home again. She felt oddly safe so far away from home. The only thing missing was Damien on her other side.

Memories of the three of them bunking together in the middle of the night ran through her mind just before she fell asleep. All of them had been together since the crib. Literally. They hadn't slept peacefully as newborns until they were together. How could one sleep with out pieces of themselves? Then, when they'd grown older and they had still wanted the closeness of each other. Their mother had given them one of the largest rooms so they could put three beds in it but they would only use one of the three beds. People began to suggest that this wasn't healthy for the children. They would grow up much too dependent on each other. This might be okay for commoners but they were royal. They couldn't spend their whole lives in one area. Royals married and moved away and if they still had such a connection it would be devastating.

Arra hadn't wanted that. She'd put them in separate rooms and demanded that they slept in their own beds.

Lana smiled from her memories. The three of them were one and nobody had understood that, not really. They understood it of course but there were still things they didn't bother to decipher because they couldn't and they didn't care to. They accepted it. Like how they didn't need to say anything to know which of the three rooms they would end up in that night.

Thinking about it now, Lana thought her mother might have known. Probably knew.

As they grew a bit older, the rumors started. People whispered at the incest that went on behind the royal walls. It was even more disgusting because they were triplets, they had come from the womb all at once. They whispered and it was just more proof that no one understood the bond they shared. How could they assume such things between the three of them? They needed to touch each other, be near each other because, well, they were one and the same.

Not even a pair of twins could fully understand. Their soul had only been split not separated into three different pieces. It was easier to live with a half a soul versus a third of one.

Tears came to her eyes and she buried her face in the pillow. She'd gone from happy to sad. No one would ever understand.

Another warm body slid in next to Lana pushing her into Vincent's back.

"Go to sleep." Damien said roughly.

"Okay." She whispered.

She hadn't fully realized it but she'd needed him there. She had needed to have home on both sides of her before sleep would come. As the first wash of sleep came over her her fear from before dug deep into her gut and slowly very slowly it loosened and drifted away. For the life of her she couldn't remember why she'd been scared in the first place.

* * *

_The presence in her mind was unmistakable. _

_Green eyes. That was always the image in her head. Whether there was any other part of his body or not, they eyes were always there. Watching. Seeing. Knowing._

_With his voice, his body appeared. "You have been through a lot today."_

_"Yes."_

_For the first time since he'd first visited her in her dreams she saw some emotion pass over his features. For a moment he seemed more real, not just a figment of her imagination, not that she'd ever thought that. His green, green eyes shifted to look at both of her hazel ones and there was something like unease about them._

_The next words out of his mouth seemed to surprise even him, "How is your mother?"_

When Lana woke the next morning the rest of the dream drifted away. She laid there for long moments grasping at wisps of it but none of it came back to her. _Odd, very odd..._ Usually the dreams of Uncle stick to her memory almost cruelly. It bothered her that this one did not.

_"Secrets to tell you..." _The spider-web of a voice came to her. _"They will come."

* * *

_

A/N: Uh, wow, short but I promise I'm building up to something. Something...big. I just hope it all comes out right. Writers...--shakes head and tuts--we are the slaves to inspiration and muses! How horrible! Haha.

Do I dare?

Sure, why not? How much can it hurt?

Please REVEIW!!


	16. Moving on to the Future

A/N: Well, here we are. Four months later. My goodness! You all (if there's anyone left) can thank **LoveAroundEmbers** for this chapter. No joke. She gave me a good verbal whipping to get me started. It was probably exactly what I needed and I hope nobody holds back seeing the results! (Don't threaten me or anything but a push never hurts...bad.)

All I can say is read carefully and ...

Enjoy!

**Chapter 16: Moving on to the Future**

"How long are we going to be here?" Vincent groaned, to which Lana immediately answered with a smack to the back of his head.

"Could you be any more callous?" She hissed. She wasn't actually angry but nothing less than an intense emotion would get through to him. She was bored, too. It'd been two days since Zain's ... Lana hadn't figured out what to call it in her head. It wasn't an accident exactly.

"I could," Vincent drawled rubbing the back of his head in a token motion. Nevermind, maybe nothing ever really got through to him.

"Lana, I think you're overreacting," Damien spoke with his deep calm voice.

"About what?" She demanded sharply.

"How many times has Zain told us we should move on? He's fine with it. In fact, I believe he said that it wasn't a very smart idea to wait until he could see again," Damien continued in the same calm voice only he could seem to produce.

The three of them were sitting in Damien and Vincent's room. Lana was sitting on one of the beds with Vincent. Damien was sitting on the other, shining his weapons. There was plenty to work on considering he easily carried the most weapons in their triad. Lana sighed, flipping back painfully straight black locks away from her face. She looked away from her brother's face, up and towards the designs on the wall. "I can't help it that I'm worried about him."

Vincent swung an arm around Lana's shoulders. "He's a grown man and doesn't need a silly princess worrying over him. We agreed to help him since he's helping us but he doesn't need you coddling him."

"I'm not coddling," She feebly denied. She sounded weak and unconvincing even to herself which only made her sigh again. "But..."

She cut herself off with a grumble. It was a sad day when Vincent was forced to make so much sense. She stared defiantly at Damien's working hands, thinking it through. Just watching him work with blades made her hands ache for the milk white blade. She shoved that urge aside. Now wasn't the time.

"We can leave tomorrow," Lana ventured hesitantly. She didn't want to leave, not with Zain in his particular condition. And yet a part of her, a surprisingly sizable part, was overjoyed that those words had left her lips. Leaving! Oh, the adventures! And yet even though that had been her point to start off on this entire journey she felt so horribly torn and a little guilty.

She wanted, very deeply, for Zain to be better. She hadn't tried conveying that to her brothers. It wasn't just the fact that he was blind now, it was... that great pool of sadness she could see in him. Lana's chest ached for him in empathy. Not that she'd ever experienced anything half so heartrendingly painful and knowing that she had not right to help him in any way only made her feel useless. Silly princess, indeed.

Still. Wanting to travel and see, first hand, everything the world had to offer was something she'd dreamed about ever since her mother had told her the first of many stories.

But...Zain...

Her brothers, seeing various emotions pass over Lana's face as only brothers can, looked to each other. After a silent exchange Damien spoke up, "Lana, what's on your mind?"

"Zain," She murmured to quiet to hear. She put on a smile and louder said, "I'm going to check up on Zain."

And with that she strode out of the room. Vincent's eyes were on the door for long moment's after Lana had walked out of it. Slowly, very slowly his dark brown brows scrunched together. He turned to Damien mouth parted, ready to speak until he noticed the same confusion on his brother's face. It was then he knew that no words were needed because they were both thinking the same thing. _What was that?_ When had Lana simply not answered a question, or ignored it or ignored _them_ for that matter? While anyone else might not have thought much of this the two brothers couldn't fight off the kernel of fear that buried itself in their chests.

"Something..." Damien said slowly.

"Is not right." Vincent finished with a nod.

* * *

It had been the future this time.

Zain closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. This was something his mother had not dared to do. Zain flipped through pictures, frames of events in his mind. It was hard to treat it like a distant book with vivid pictures. He could hear the sounds of the city. People talking, horses clopping by, doors opening and closing, a child's laughter, and the always present roar of a never distant ocean. He could see faces, too. An older woman with a tan and weathered face haggling with a small shopkeeper over the price of beets. A child, six or seven, cried as his friends continued to play, ignorant of the fact that their friend had tripped and fallen behind. Two young lovers were hidden away, fearing their discovery and loving the dangerous secrecy.

Those were the sounds of the here and now. Right? And yet even as he thought it the ocean changed. The winds were different. A new picture filled his mind from another area. A man, young man really for he couldn't have been a hair older than eighteen, worried about his betrothed whom he would meet for the first time in a matter of hours. Information like an arrow shot through the picture. _Prince._

His concentration, which was focused on not falling into the visions, cracked. It was a high balcony that looked over buildings buried in trees. The breeze was cool against his cheek. The young man closed his eyes for longer than a standard blink before opening them again. It was here Zain made a mistake.

At the sight of such familiar hazel eyes his attention sharpened. Without thinking, he tried to shift the vision to get a better look at this man. He wanted to be sure that the physical similarities were just a trick of the eye between this Prince and...

But one can never control visions and as he tried to rein this one to his will there was no fight. It simply fell away like water through his fingers.

Then there was a flash of _her._ Her long black hair pulled tight into a braid. There was a cave. Still in the Yamani Islands. She whipped her head around and flashed a smile. He saw it all in a moment and the next moment there was Lana again at the same time but in a parallel situation. It was only a flash because her gift kept her mostly shielded from him.

He didn't want to but the vision pulled him down the long line of cause and effects, choices and resounding scenes. The paths were not only for Lana but also for the older woman at the shop whose path was coming to an end, the boy who'd fallen but would not fall all his life, the two lovers whose love for each other had not been so strong and so many others. All of what would happen in the same time space to different people in different places.

A light shone in each of those lives to him and he realized how all of these visions were related. She had met—no, could or would meet. A juncture in her life would change how many of these things would come to pass. He had seen it, found it, feared it.

After diving into all of this, one event seared his mind and memory.

A kiss.

It was only a possibility, and before it's time came there were thousands of small choices to be made and hundreds of paths to walk down.

He was back at the room he had begun in. A unique presence he had come to recognize as Lana was knocking and shortly thereafter, entering.

"Zain are you alright?"

"Yes," He said aloud and it was only then that he realized he was still watching the visions. His voice sounded too solid and real falling like a stone through fog because the future is unstable, unpredictable, and anything but set in stone. He had come so close to the present, however, that Lana's voice came to his solid ears taking him away from so many futures which had all resounded from her brightness and... he tore away from that thought, unwilling to think about it just now while she was in the room.

"Zain, are you alright?" The vision which he could see, and the present, which he could not, came closer and closer in time until he was following the present with his vision seeing it with his mind's eye.

"Yes," His voice was only a little different from how it had sounded before, it was more a sigh of relief.

"That's good. Are you feeling well enough to travel?" She sounded hopeful. In his vision/sight he could see her hazel eyes and others which were surprisingly similar flashed before him. Yet he knew that he had lost the chance to see them closer. If he searched for something it eluded him.

"Of course, I told you I was fine days ago," The left side of his mouth turned up into an almost smile.

"I suppose," She said with an eyeroll. "We can get an early start tomorrow. Right now, I'm going for a walk would you like to come?"

Every answer he gave, he gave carefully.

"Yes," He answered finally. Zain felt guilty for being so selfish because when Lana reached out and wrapped her fingers around his to lead him, he almost physically felt a clang as the gates to certain paths closed. Just a step further along the path which he desired, hating himself for it.

Lana did not let go of his hand, not that Zain tried to take it from her hold.

They walked down the street, together talking pleasantly. Lana fired off questions to which Zain answered to the best of his abilities. Most of them circled around his visions. She asked easy questions, well easy meaning that she didn't get too personal which he appreciated. After some time, Lana frowned, just a small frown.

"You talk like my mother," She said slowly because it was just occurring to her.

"Hm? How so?" His soft voice rose in curiosity.

"Well, I once asked my mother why I had been born a--" She stopped. She'd been about to say _born a princess_. "...at all."

She saw one of his brows rise and answered it with, "I was an inquisitive child."

"I can tell."

She smiled. "Anyways, she'd told me that I was born because the gods willed it and that I had a path to walk. It was my path and no one else's, not even my own brothers could follow it. That had been especially hard for me to believe at that time, my brothers and I have always been inseparable. My mother said that the path was overseen by the Fates and that whatever I did, they would oversee it." Lana shook her head lightly, coming out of her reverie. "You sound like her the way you talk of paths and fate."

Zain's grip on Lana loosened with surprise. Not many people used those exact words. Lana's fingers tightened around his as if to wake him up. "You okay?"

"Who was your mother?" He asked.

Lana blinked. "Oh." She laughed. "You know, just a wonderful woman from Karucia."

_Murderer,_ Uncle whispered so quietly it was only a breeze at the back of her mind. It was so quiet that she threw the suggestion away. It must have been a trick, a mistake, nothing more.

Zain saw something on her face, the reluctance to give him more information and let it go. Instead he asked, "You are from Karucia?"

The conversation ensued from there. Eventually Lana led the way back to the inn. She paused at the door when she caught sight of a small pretty little face peeking from around the corner. The setting sun cast shadows making it more difficult to see but it also set off distinct highlights in the long matted brown hair.

_The girl_, she realized,_ the girl who stole Damien's purse_. But what was she doing here and hiding suspiciously? Maybe she wanted more money and had followed Lana because, well, that made sense. Lana took a step towards her and in a flash she was gone.

_Curious_, Lana thought. She put a smile on. Perhaps she would see her later.

And of course, she would.

* * *

A/N: I hope everyone was writing their notes! This chapter is **HEAVY** on the foreshadowing.

Alright! So feel free to send in the reviews (please!). They just might keep me going!

Review!


	17. Reject

A/N: Could this have taken any longer?

I'm going with yen even though it should probably have a different name. Ah well.

Enjoy!

**Chapter 17: Reject**

Their progress was slow. So painfully slow because of the surprising amount of early morning traffic. Lana frowned, "Are you sure this is the way we need to go?"

Zain nodded.

"I," Vincent began with a great amount of feeling, "can _not_ believe we are taking directions from a blind man."

"One that just so happens to be a Seer," Damien whispered harshly. Vincent shrugged. Moonbeam shook out his main that matched the motion as closely as a horse can.

Zain, however, was not listening intently. He was concentrating on combining his Sight to the now. In a rare moment of success, he heard the argument he'd been looking for.

"You expect me to pay that much for beets? Especially beets of this quality?" The older woman scoffed. "I've got to get back to _Yurasu_ Isle by nightfall and if I'm held up by a greedy little man like you I'll--!"

"No, less than thirteen-hundred yen." The shopkeeper said firmly.

"Ten." the old woman argued.

The man made a disgusted sound. "Eleven."

The elderly woman slapped down several coins. The man handed her a crate which she nearly snatched from him. She turned and Zain was there, already off his horse.

Lana tried to hear what he was saying but it was next to impossible since his voice was so soft. She wasn't even able to catch the older woman's words whose voice was harsh in comparison. There was nodding and pointing, then a pause as the old woman looked at each of the triplets in turn. Finally she nodded.

Lana dismounted and went to Zain, "What is it? Who was that?"

"That is Hisa, the woman who will take us where we need to go," Zain took one long, slow blink and said, "She won't leave for hours yet and the only thing she asks is that we help her get everything she needs."

It seemed fair. "Is that all?"

Lana conveyed the message to her brothers who agreed that it was a good deal.

"You," The old woman pointed to Damien, "the big one. I need you to carry these."

She pointed to a box behind her that was much larger than the one full of beets that she pushed at Lana. It took a moment to understand that this small woman was giving the orders. They couldn't take too long though, because partnered with the _small_ and _bossy _she was also _impatient_. It didn't take too long to realize that the rest of the day wouldn't be fun.

The sun was making its descent onto the horizon hours later and Lana was trying to withhold a groan. Her muscles reduced to useless leaden weights she tried to find the most comfortable position on the rickety boat.

Lana closed her eyes against the light reflecting off of the waters. Damien would be in worse condition by now. Perhaps--

"Aieeee!" A shriek pierced the. Lana whirled despite her exhaustion. It was Hisa. Everyone aboard the Ishi could hear her shouts long before they ever saw her face. "You little whelp! Hide aboard my ship will you? I have have a mind to dump you into the ocean!"

Hisa dragged a small girl out from hiding. The old woman's hand looked like old roots wrapped around a pale arm, gnarled, thick but still strong. The girl she had such a tight hold on squirmed but could not get loose. The fact that even if she was free of this one's hold, the boat was small and getting a hold of her again would not be very difficult didn't matter. The matted brown hair covered most of the face.

"Might I ask what is going on here, Hisa?" Lana dredged up enough spirit to sound polite and yet demanding. Vincent called it her princess voice.

Hisa didn't seem to care much for it. Her weathered face snapped to Lana, black eyes hard as flint. She measured Lana with a look. "She's been hiding out. I found her trying to pick at the seeds."

"She's hungry," Lana bit her cheek to keep from frowning. It was something Arra told her to do because, as her mother said, her feelings showed far too true on her face.

"Hungry or not, she's not invited to pick at my stores." Hisa jerked the girl hard enough to make a chunk of hair slide away revealing a face. One that Lana recognized from yesterday . Half of the pretty face was still covered but one eye regarded Lana. The look was direct but it asked nothing. It was not pleading nor questioning nor anything at all. In fact, the apathy of the look was matched by her body as she stopped struggling though her movements before had been weak.

Lana saw that one dark eye and wished that it did ask and beg. Had no one ever given her hope in her life that she dare not want it ever? It made Lana's heart ache.

"Leave her to me," Lana requested. "I can give her half of my portions."

Hisa didn't look happy but her puckered face hardly ever did. Lana suspected that it wasn't so much that the old woman hated everything but that a long hard life had taught her a rough sort of caution. With a grunt, Hisa threw the girl to Lana. Lana caught her before she stumbled to the ground.

"Come, sit with me where neither of us will bring about her attention again." Lana whispered in Yamani. "I don't think she'll like either of us for a while."

The girl didn't say anything. She followed Lana, though, and that was enough. The princess sat down and pulled the small girl onto her lap. She couldn't help it. Lana knew that this person was more a young woman than a girl but she was so small! She weighed nearly nothing!

"Rijekuto," The girl whispered. _Reject?_ Lana translated. She frowned and began to hum while working out the knots in the brown hair. Lana was thinking about how a bath for the girl would be nice when Vincent found her.

"My, my," He said. The girl didn't make a move to look at him though Lana did. "Zain said that we might want to find you but I didn't imagine anything like this."

"What do you mean by that?" Lana asked, completely unrepentant.

"Just that it seems you've adopted yet another person," Vincent laughed. "Damien won't be happy."

Lana shrugged. "It can't be helped."

Vincent walked away humming. His tune stopped when Hisa spotted him and told him to reorganize the boxes below to make more room. Lana could almost seem him bristling at her commanding tone but she heard him agree all the same.

"You were the young woman trying to steal my brother's purse weren't you?"

There wasn't as much of a reaction as Lana was expecting. There was no shock, she wasn't ashamed or sorry. "Of course. I've told you everything."

Lana's black brows furrowed. She'd said nothing at all! "What do you mean?"

The person in her lap turned her head to face Lana. Black eyes studied hazel ones. For one intense moment Lana had the feeling the girl was seeing more than her irises. Finally, she turned around and said, clearly, "I guess I haven't told you anything."

Well, yes, that made more sense but there was still something odd about what she'd said and how she'd said it. Lana couldn't help but want to hold onto that fact. Suddenly, she let it go. One moment, it seemed terribly important and the next it was as if someone were whispering that it wasn't, quite the contrary, it meant nothing at all.

Lana blinked for several moments, trying to fight it and eventually gave up. It wasn't important.

"What's your name?"

"Rijekuto."

So she'd been saying her name. Lana sighed. "You are welcome to come with me, if you haven't got anywhere else to go from here."

"Of course," Again, Lana was struck by the oddness of it. "I go with you."

"If you're tired, I'm sleeping in the fifth bunk. You can have my area," Lana offered as once again her suspicions were brushed aside.

Rijekuto stood without a word, bowed to Lana, and left. Frowning, Lana assumed she was going to sleep.

"When are you going to tell Damien?" Zain's soft voice didn't startle Lana. It seemed to flow with her surroundings.

"Whenever the time comes," Lana shrugged. "He won't be happy but he won't be surprised either."

Forgetting that he wouldn't see, Lana turned a smile up to him. "Have a seat next to me. We can stay here for a while. Damien won't come out."

She reached up and tugged him down with her fingers tangled in his. His hand was long and lean, bordering on feminine like the rest of him if they weren't so large. He folded down beside her without a fight but he was stiff and uncomfortable. Lana thought about letting him go to make him more comfortable but in a selfish fit she held on and placed her other hand on his forearm. The feel of his hand was nice against hers. Bit by bit he relaxed. Lana sensed some small release in him and smiled.

"I didn't think you the type to hide from your brother," Zain said.

"I'm not hiding! I'm...enjoying the moment."

Lana couldn't have known but those moments were one of the few that Zain truly enjoyed in his life. He lifted his face to the sky and closed his eyes relishing in the moment. Heart swollen, Zain thought that this almost made up for years of living too many lifetimes of pain.

* * *

Arra closed her eyes to the world. Legs crossed and hands on knees, she spent this small space of free time in meditation. It was never easy. There was so much to worry about. The Yaman Princess. Emereth's state of mind. The triplets. Not to mention all of Karucia. 

A deep breath.

But... her mind tried.

Another cleansing breath.

Nothing.

Until, that is, her chest pounded in a familiar way. The initial shock wore off as the pounded became more regular, a constant thing. Arra relaxed her mind further, opening it up like a flower and letting go. She went into something like a half-sleeping state. A sharp pain in her chest shook her from her progress.

"Oh, no, dearie," a voice as old as dirt chided. "You'll not slip from me."

Arra coughed. "I didn't think I could."

"Hm," Fate said skeptically. Features were lost behind wrinkled, sagging skin. Two blind white eyes were tucked away under folds of falling skin. The hair atop of that old head was no better than ruined wire stuck in clay. Two hands came together. Fate's hands were thick-knuckled with veins pressing up against the thin-looking skin. And yet, watching the hunched body walk across the room someone would have to be daft to think their wasn't some kind of power in the wizened husk.

Arra could no more be surprised to see the old woman in her room than she could to see rain clouds coming from the east.

"What have I done wrong this time?" Arra sighed wearily.

Fate shook her head. "Am I so horrible to look at? Can't I simply come for a visit?"

Arra noticed Fate's attempt at a joke but didn't take to it. "It's been busy around here."

"So, then, it's reasonable that something should fall through the cracks," There was the smallest hint of reproving in her words. As if Arra were some kind of cracked bowl, spilling important contents that was her job to keep in. The words themselves seemed comforting but they made her lips tighten in anger.

"See here! I've done my best--"

"And for anyone else that would be fine." Fate's voice stopped any further argument. "But you are not anyone."

Arra glowered but said nothing. Tired. Fed up. Enough. Arra closed her eyes slowly.

"Retrieve your children," Fate said.

Arra's eyes snapped open. "What?"

"Bring them home."

Arra sat speechless for moments. She tried to examine why she was so against bringing them back and right then she knew why. She wanted to give her children what she wanted, had always wanted. Even if this was a semblance of freedom, perhaps it would be enough to know.

"I don't see how my children doing a little bit of exploring can--"

Fate cut her off again. "Of course you don't. I see the paths."

"Which is why you have to explain to this lowly person why it matters!" Arra roared.

Fate stood facing a window for long moments. She cast a lumpy, scragged silhouette. "Because your daughter is your opposite. Where you see the bad she sees good. Where you are careful she is spontaneous. And where you guard your heart she gives it freely."

Fate turned to Arra.

"And where her heart goes so shall all of her. And though she knows it not, she wants to give her heart to entirely the wrong person."

* * *

A/N: Yes, I know, its short. I think things will pick up in the next chapter. 

Please review and tell me what you think. Where do you think this is going? Where do you want it to go? Tell me.


	18. Nonplace

A/N: If you want to look up the names, they'll be different but generally recognizable.

It's been a while, I know. Please forgive, and read!

**Chapter 18: Non-place**

Three women stood in a place that was not a place.

There were many places to be, of course. The gods had their Divine Realms. The dead have the Black Realm. Then there was the stewing pot at the center of it all where not only human resided but immortals and animals. But, of course, such matters never stay so clean cut. Some immortals chose to live in the Divine Realms. When it suited them, gods went to the Mortal Realms. The Black realm, as we know, is forever tied to the Mortal Realms and to see the Black god on earth is no surprise.

But these three women did not claim space on any of these realms unless they chose to, though it is often questioned how close they are to the Black Realm. Some believe they live there permanently since their work is somewhat related. Those who believe that do not truly understand that their work is related to everything big or small. It is woven throughout life, since that is the journey, and death, since that is where all mortals are destined. So then, is it safe to say that they are near the Mortal Realms? By no means! Gods meddle and they, too, take part in the web.

It is for all these reasons that the three women stand in a place that is not a place. Somewhere which is nowhere. The mind does not comprehend such things well so we shall say that this non-place might be perceived as a cave.

The three women were alike in only a very general way. They were all tall and in some way or other, pretty, if one could ignore where the eyes should be. But, again, to work with such information can be trying. So then, let us number and describe them.

The first has been introduced before. She was, as said, tall with small high breasts and long, thin legs. One might say _skinny_ if she wasn't graceful. The hair, long and straight, was a peculiar shade of silver blue framing an oval face. Her long fingers curved around the head of a staff nearly as tall as her.

The second gave off a more feminine air. Her ample curves would never be hidden under any amount of clothing and certainly the robe she wore was no exclusion to the rule. Her hair went a little past her shoulders in soft curls in glistening silver, yellow. Yellow because the color itself could not be considered blond and gold was a far cry from that precise hue. Her face was gentle until the square, yet not overpowering, jaw.

The third seemed shorter due to the stocky lines she was made of. But those lines made her look stronger than the other two. Her hair was short, curling around her ears and at the back of her neck. The color was red. Not the red of rust or copper but a true red sown with pale gold. Her shoulders were a little more powerful and yet all that strength was set off but a soft heart shaped face. On the tough sash tied around her waist hung a large pair of scissors.

"Clora," The first one called the the second. Nothing more was said but it was like a conversation had passed.

Clora of the yellow hair stared up at the ceiling of their cave. The ceiling, however, could not be seen for above them was a network of threads so complex that were a mortal to lay eyes on it they might go mad. Though no mortal would ever see this non-place. The ceiling was a network of criss-crossing threads. Where one ended and began was indiscernible. If one stared hard enough or was one of the few that trembled on the edge of insanity, they might pretend that each of those threads was its own twisting and touching others.

But, that would be complicated and take far too much time. It would be easier to look and see something that resembled a sheet. Unlike a sheet or any piece of cloth for that matter, the threads on this one would not be uniform. If it were a sheet one might poke a hole through any part of it because it was not so simple as weaving.

Clora raised her hand and one single, solitary thread began to glow. The one thread came off of another and zigged-zagged, twisted back, zoomed forward and took a sharp left...it went on.

"That one, Lachais?" Clora asked in a throaty voice.

Lachais' expression did not change. "Something is wrong, I can sense it."

"We all sense it," Clora nodded. "We know what it is."

"There is something else," Lachais looked up at the threads, focusing in on the glowing one. Her blue hair slid off her shoulders to hang in a curtain down her back. "Something that is hanging on past its time."

She stretched farther than any body should be able to and stared at the one thread with eyeless pits. Woven throughout the thread was one fiber, one single fiber, that was out of place. "Here it is."

"Should we fix it?" The red-haired one asked holding up the scissors.

"No, Atro, to end it would be to end a life that has not yet reached its end. We will wait and hope Arra will listen." Lachais compressed until she reached her regular size. "But I have yet to see her listen when the going is good."

The other two nodded agreement. There had been others born with her unique ability. She need not worry because although she had a thread just as everyone else, they could not see it. And even thought they could not see it it would still end, of course. But not even Clora who created each and every one had been able to find it. Arra was, however, the only one who did not cow in the presence of Fate and listen to reason.

Lachais continued to stare, farther down the glowing line than before but stare she did. Clora without being told made one other line glow. Where the two met and intertwined there was a hot, eye burning glow. It lasted a short time and then the second one continued on with a very dull glow in another direction.

"And our Minister?" Clora asked.

"He knows what he is doing," Lachais said aloud though all of them knew. "But he treads on a path that could lead to dangerous times for many."

* * *

Lana let Rije ride atop Flash. The skinny young woman was hardly a burden and Flash let Lana know by bursting into a jaunty canter every so often. Lana wasn't far behind in spirits. She was humming a jumpy tune breaking only to tell Rije the plans the princess had for her.

Part of this might have had something to do with the lack of response from Damien upon finding out about Rije. Gray-faced, his only response had been a long, slow blink and, "Getting angry wastes too much energy and, really, I should be expecting something like this at any turn after sixteen years."

Hisa even offered to find them a place for the night. Of course, they had to unload everything. Lana offered up her brothers while she asked where the stables and baths were.

She offered to leave Flash as a beast of burden but Damien said he would be more trouble than he was worth. Flash set his teeth on Damien's shoulder and danced away before either he or Sky could reciprocate.

After finally finding the baths (with much help) Lana placed Rije in front of her since the girl didn't seem very happy to be in the situation. Lana finished quickly and was only too overjoyed to help the younger woman out. She took out her own sweet smelling things, which had been easily protected by small spells, and scrubbed it into the brown hair. She tried, at first, to work with the hair and found it was much too hard. After working it most of the bigger knots with her fingers she asked for a comb and received one.

Lana hummed while she worked out every knot as gently as she could. Not that Rije would complain even if she accidentally tore out a chunk of hair. Lana even scrubbed the smaller woman's back and let her take her own front.

Quite pleased with herself, Lana even dressed her in some of her own clothes. They didn't fit all that well on Rije's shorter and bonier frame but they managed by folding in hems and pinning extras away.

"How do you feel?" Lana asked, eyes bright. She really was a pretty girl and cleaning her up did wonders. Her face was a nice tan with a little color at the cheeks that noble ladies wished they could achieve without rouge. Her hair fell almost as straight as Lana's except it was marginally thicker and the highlighted tresses around her face curved away created a nice frame for the heart shaped visage.

"Fine." The deadness in her voice didn't match the brightness of her face. Well, except for the eyes. It wasn't the darkness that would set someone off but the half-lidded bored expression. But then, when Lana thought about it, she'd seen many a noble lady wear that exact expression and the men flocked to them. The only difference being that Rije really didn't seem to care while those girls had been playing a part as so many did at balls and events.

A small frown threatened to pull the edges of Lana's lips down. She pulled them back up. "That's good. Are you hungry? I think my brothers are waiting at the restaurant next door for us. I hope they took care of Zain."

Lana decided not to wait for an answer.

Zain was already eating, spooning a thick stew into his mouth and closing his eyes to chew it. Lana didn't realize she was watching his jaw work then his throat as he swallowed. When her eyes came back up to his lips there was the smallest curve that might or might not have been a smile.

"You are quite taken with him," Rije said quietly. Lana looked at her in surprise. She shut her mouth quickly because Vincent and Damien were coming back, each with two bowls. She fought not to say something back, a denial most likely, but that would have had her brothers asking questions and chances they would stop were nil.

Damien's hair was already dry which was no surprise since it was so short. Vincent's hair was just barely drying at the edges and Zain's was already pulled back into a tight braid.

Lana touched the wet knot of hair at the back of her neck before sitting down. She was just about to shovel a spoonful of carrots and potatoes into her mouth when she noticed Rije standing beside the chair meant for her and staring at the bowl. Lana could tell nothing by the look on her face, it was blank.

"Go ahead, take a seat," Vincent urged warmly. "Eat your fill."

A busty maid with thick blond hair placed a basket of bread in front of them. "Complimentary for such fine looking men," She said in common and not missing a beat she winked, her tongue sliding over full pink lips.

A light shone in Vincent's eyes and the maid didn't miss it as her sight obviously narrowed to the man most likely to answer her messages. Her lips curved nicely. Vincent smirked, something that Lana always found a little odd on his good ole boy looks.

Damien didn't seem to see anything and yet Lana knew he missed nothing. He reached out and broke off a piece of bread, blue eyes glancing up and catching Lana's gaze then moving to Rije as she finally moved to sit. Lana kept her eyes fixed on Damien and she noticed his eyes staying on Rije.

_Curious_, she thought finally putting the first spoonful into her mouth. The smile she played off when they heard a man's voice calling from the back in Yaman. "Henvra, how many times have I told you to stop giving free bread? That comes out of your pay!"

She replied in a fluent Yaman that had even Damien's eyes wide.

"Why do they keep her around if she's such trouble?" Lana muttered.

"The reason, my dear sister," Vincent began grandly, "is because of her assets--" Here he made cups with his hands in front of him, "bring the men in."

He motioned around the room and she noticed that quite a few of them _were_ men, young and old alike. Lana smiled. Hearing him say it let her know that even though Vincent wouldn't hide that he liked the way she looked he wouldn't really act on it because he knew he was just another man who had come to see the attraction.

* * *

That night, Lana dreamed in broken images and pictures.

A door.

A bed.

Shadows.

A mirror with a flash of green.

One shadowed hand.

She started awake and found herself sitting at the foot of her bed, pouring cold sweat. There was a ghost of a song she half remembered at the back of her head. Even when it was over she tried to remember the words. Finally she remembered them thought they had never made much sense to her:

_Find your desire_

_Smile for the day_

_Shed your useless tears_

_For tomorrow we die

* * *

_

A/N: The "song" at the end isn't supposed to rhyme. Hah.

Please review! I love, love, love reviews and will probably love you for reviewing!


	19. Seeing or Believing?

A/N: So, so, so much has been going on... I am so sorry. I am actually trying to stockpile some chapters, as I usually try to do, so I can give you _something_ besides a long dry period of time. Apologies! I do know how hard it is to pick up a story when there hasn't been a new chapter for so long. Thanks so much to those that are still dedicated!

Enjoy!

Chapter 19: Seeing or Believing?

It was like an extra sense. It was different from the Gift or Sight in that any conscious effort to control or direct it was futile. It wasn't just magic that ran through his veins giving him a peek into what it might be, it truly was more like a sense.

Seeing, hearing, feeling, tasting, smelling were all things that, really, one cannot control. If your hand meets a hot pot, you can't simply tell your hand _not_ to feel the heat. If something is put on your tongue you cannot tell your taste buds_ not _to register it. If someone shrieks, you cannot order your ears to exclude the sound. If a scent comes across your nostrils you cannot _not_ smell it. And seeing...with open eyes you cannot simply see _nothing_.

And just like any other sense it could be overwhelming. Except in this particular case it was overwhelming like a great tidal wave, simultaneously taking over all the senses and shutting them off from everything else.

Zain couldn't ignore what had him musing all this but he had been trying. If the "attack" that Lana and her brothers had witnessed was a tidal wave then he was constantly standing with the water around his ankles, all ways in touch with what this extra sense brought him.

He closed his blind eyes and put his face to the sky.

Today it was like static filled air when a thunder storm is on its way. There was a menacing edge, however, that nature tended to lack. Admittedly, nature could be dangerous but it was never mean or spiteful the way human affairs could be. Nature was what it was.

Zain took a deep breath.

It had to be something big to affect the air like this. There were always the small buzzing here and there, minor annoyances that he could push to the back of his mind. Something was always going on, possibilities swam through the air at any time, always.

This had been something excluded in his visions.

Which was odd. His brows furrowed.

The wind blew but it couldn't move the worry in the air. By the "thickness" he could tell it was a little more than a simple idea. All of the future was only possibility but this had the distinct feel of something planned.

Why hadn't he foreseen it?

Perhaps he shouldn't have been _so _surprised. He surely never saw everything that happened in any given area but this simply felt too large to be missed especially when he was going to be in the thick of it as it seemed.

A vision spasmed through him. He felt someone in his arms, pressed against his chest. His nose was buried in hair that smelled sweet. Her breath was fast. His heart was fast. There was the frantic feel of fear in the air.

The feeling of it lingered behind like a lover's hand.

What--

"Zain!" Lana's exciting voice jolted him. Immediately she was upon him, her hands on his shoulders. The scent she wore wafted onto him as the breeze she created caught up with her. It was sweet.

"What are you doing out here all alone?"

"Listening to the stars," He said softly.

She sat next to him, closer than he thought he deserved and not satisfyingly close enough. "What do they say?"

"Secrets, secrets," He whispered.

"I supposed I'll have to wait till they want me to know then?"

"Or you could ask."

A memory of his vision brought her smile to his inner eye. He heard her shift and felt the movement of her leg against his before she said, "Damien says we should leave in the next day or two."

"Why not tomorrow morning?" His chest tightened. Was this crossing the line? Had he now, more directly than ever before, tampered with time. His mother's warnings and rules flooded him. _It is done! Too late to take it back!_ He told himself. Maybe he could change things though...just a little.

Lana gave him a curious look. He usually wasn't one to add his own opinion, not in the time she'd known him anyways. She was about to open answer when another voice stopped her.

_Nooo..._

It came so softly and subtlety to her that she found herself agreeing. Perhaps it was her own thought? Perhaps. "I...will see." She stood. "Do you want me to help you to your room?"

"No," There was a mix of emotions in the one word, both sorrow and relief.

She left with a touch to his head.

With the touch, came a fragment of the future. This was hers...and it came to him in a wash of empathy. Tears sprang to his eyes, his throat closed tight until the only a sob could escape. He covered his mouth with one hand so that the retreating young woman would not hear anymore. He whispered into his hand, "Is her pain worth my selfishness?

* * *

A/N: I know its short! I apologize yet again!


	20. Betrayal of Two Kinds

A/N: Ahhh, I finished this chapter a while back but I've been trying to get ahead so that I could go back and post them once a week again. -_- It hasn't been working so I apologize and hope that there are still some readers out there!

Enjoy!

Chapter 20: Betrayal of Two Kinds

The next evening:

There were two people Damien could handle for long periods of time. That is not to say they never annoyed or frustrated him, gods knew they did, but they were the two people who he was willing to put up with. Even with his undying love and patience for them, at times he craved isolation. Lana and Vincent knew him well enough to let him have it.

The stables were not so silent or relaxing as, say, his mother's gardens but it was better than nothing. Sky didn't mind sharing a stall either.

Sky had fallen asleep some time ago. Other mounts whinnied, sighed and stomped every now and then. People came and went with their own conversations. Damien would have preferred silence but he would settle for the simplicity of being alone.

Just as he thought that the stall door opened. Damien looked up slowly, menacingly so that anyone might see how he felt about being disturbed. He met with dark, uncaring eyes.

Rije stepped through the threshold, closed the stall door behind her and took a seat near Damien. Sky opened one eye. She resettled her hooves and closed it again.

For long moments Damien waited for her to say something. It didn't really matter that she hardly ever talked, he still expected it. Minutes ticked on and she remained silent. _Well_, he thought, _As long as she isn't a bother._

It wasn't often that two people could sit together and not speak comfortably. Silence was always undervalued. Human's constant need for noise, communication, something, leaves silence feeling empty and awkward instead of relieving.

Damien closed his eyes, releasing a sigh. The hush lulled him into a trance of unreasonable comfort. Sounds of movement and speech drifted farther and farther away. His breathing deepened. At some level he even forgot that Rije was beside him.

Her silence and unobtrusive presence was disarming.

Two cool fingers rested on the back of his neck.

In the span of one heartbeat his eyes shot open and he had just enough time to realize something was wrong, he'd been wrong, they had all been wrong.

She gave him no final words before his sight went black.

"Have you seen Damien?" Lana asked Vincent who shrugged in response. "I haven't seen him walking around in a while. I checked his room, too."

Vincent's brows slowly came to a furrow. "I know he likes his alone time but he usually..."

He let the sentence drift off. Damien usually _didn't_ tell them where he went or how long he'd be out. His leaves ranged from a few hours to nearly all day. He had come back late in the night before. For such a stoic, steady guy his absences were rather sporadic. Now, this was all fine and dandy at the palace. There was almost zero worry about where he was. Normally, there would be very little need for worry at all since he, of the three, could defend himself the best.

Yet, indescribably, Lana and Vincent knew something was off here.

Vincent stood, an irregular stern look on his face. They didn't need to say what they would have to say to others. "I know its crazy but..." or "I just have this bad feeling". They both understood.

Lana looked to Zain who was sitting on a chair by the window. He was lit up orange by the fading light of the setting sun. Shadows fell from his nose, around his eyes and into the deep groove of his dimple which was sparked by the grim set of his mouth. His black eyes seemed to be staring at something and the look on his face said he _knew_ unpleasantness hung in the air. After a moment he stood.

"I will go too."

"Oh, Zain, you don't need to. I'm sure he's fine and we're making a mountain out of a molehill." Even as she said it she knew she didn't believe it.

Zain shook his head.

A thought came suddenly to Lana. "Zain, do you know where he is?"

The man sighed and Lana thought she heard him mutter, "It won't matter."

The setting sun lent very little light to the sky as they walked out of the small lodgings. Dusk approached carrying a sinister edge and the eerie silence of the evening raised goosebumps on Lana's arm. She released a shaky sigh. Zain moved up beside her, the line of his arm barely touching hers.

As if set off by some cue the presence at the back of her mind became aware. It opened curiously excited eyes to peer out from Lana to watch and to wait.

Screams pierced the air.

* * *

For the second time in weeks Arra woke up screaming. The scream was dry and hoarse but it tore her throat all the same. Heart racing and breath frantic she fought for a whiff of the dream but couldn't put together the scraps in any understandable way. Fear, though, a fear she recognized, that remained vividly.

To her left Liam slept on peacefully. She was glad, at least, that he hadn't taken his rest from him. In his sleep, a small frown formed between his brows. She brushed her lips over it softly and the furrows smoothed. Arra slipped out of bed carefully before one of his long arms could snake around her and found a mirror.

The oval reflected back her solemn face. Instead of taking in her appearance she just stared. Eventually, she touched the mirror with two glowing fingers until the mirror glowed blue to match. Arra concentrated on what she wanted to see. And like every other time she had tried her magic reached out, hit a wall, and the mirror showed her only an opaque cover.

This was what she hadn't been telling Liam. Someone or something was _blocking_ her from seeing Lana. It was possible that Lana herself was doing it but the complexity and complete cover she had was ... beyond what she'd ever learned. Whatever it was was even broad enough to cloud Vincent and Damien. What would Liam--

"Find out anything?"

Arra spun to face Liam. He was laying on the edge of the bed with his head resting against an arm and the other arm reaching to the back of his head. His hazel eyes were very awake even though his body language suggested a lazier attitude.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," Arra gave up on the scrying and went back to the bed. She stood beside it for long moments.

"I can always tell when your doing magic, especially when you're so close."

Arra didn't answer but climbed back onto the bed and repositioned Liam who had managed to sprawl on her side of the bed and showed no signs of moving. They ended up with Arra sitting with her back against the backboard and Liam's head resting on her lap. His fingers were still touching the back of his head. He let her fingers take the place of his and she proceeded to rake them through his thick hair, across his scalp.

It had taken her a while to be comfortable talking about the old wound at the back of his head. Months and months after the fact, she'd still shied away from anything coming close to hurting him. Some would have described her as timid when it came to Liam those first few months. But she had just been so scared and so guilty and so happy he was alive. Liam had done good dealing with her but even he had a limit.

The queen of Karucia smiled remembering. She really hadn't understood how he couldn't be mad that she had wounded him. That he would always carry the effects of something she had done to him. Liam brushed all of it off. He was good at giving her space and time but she also appreciated him immensely for interfering and pushing her when it came to that. Eventually, her king eased her into touchy conversations.

He said it didn't really hurt, so much as tingling at the back of his head. It had taken him a while to realize what it was.

"What are you thinking?" Liam's breathing resembled that of a sleeper's so closely she'd fallen for it.

"Just wondering why you put up with me."

"Well, they wouldn't let me keep the throne otherwise," Liam answered promptly.

"Oh, my heart!" Arra exaggerated.

Liam lifted his arms above his stationary head and wrapped them around Arra's waist. "If you don't know by now that I love you more than is even conceivable then I don't know what else to do but continue to love you."

"Liam," Arra breathed hugging him to her. "I love you, too."

She saw his smile.

"And after over twenty years of loving you I won't be deterred from answers," There was his iron resolve. Not many recognized exactly how firm he was when he made a decision. They assumed, because they went about it in different ways, that she was the stubborn one and he was the flexible one. It was true that he was more willing to bend but when it came to something he wanted, he would get it. "So, what is it? Did you find anything?"

"I...Haven't even been able to catch a glimmer of them." Arra admitted. "They are being blocked from me completely."

Liam stared at her for long moments. She saw him swallow twice before even attempting speech. "Arra..."

"I didn't want to say anything!" She cut in, "You already wanted to go and take them back and I thought at some point I'd be able to sense them. I..I just couldn't..."

He sat up slowly, then stood. He covered his mouth with his hand, eyes moving back and forth over intangible thoughts. Finally he stopped back where she was and took her face into his hands. Arra thought he meant to kiss her but he held her face firmly where it was and gazed directly into her eyes. "They are my children, too. I love them and I worry about them. Why would you keep something like this from me? Arra, if you are trying to have them live and do what you wish you could I...I can't...I don't even know where to begin."

Arra knew she had gone too far if Liam was this flustered. Was she letting them live out this fantasy because it was something she still wanted? Perhaps.

"I do my best for you. I do. I let you do what you think you should around here because I know you become restless but, damn it, I feel like you are just slipping from me."

She tried to shake her head but Liam's hands remained firm. She covered his hands with her own. "Liam, no, I love you. I need you."

"Maybe I stayed silent about this for too long." He paused and let her go. "Please, don't keep them from me. I need to know what you know—and what you don't."

Liam walked to the bathroom.

Arra released a shaky sigh. She _had_ been hoping a time would come where Emereth would be able to take the thrown and she could...leave. It was a pipe-dream at best but she had honestly almost believed it. And she knew that's what Liam was talking about. He was raised a prince. A thought like that would never occur to him, not really.

Using a technique that had taken her years to perfect, she pushed if from her mind. The triplets. She feared for them. Something in her gut told her that a menacing force was with them, covering them, following them. What could she do? What could she possibly do? Oh, her children.

* * *

Vincent ran ahead of them. It wasn't hard to get the lead since Lana had gone back for the milk-blade sword as well as kept a good hold of Zain.

"Where are we going?" Lana yelled ahead. Movement around them made it hard to tell if he heard her or not. The Yamani people controlled their emotions well as they fled but fear was only too apparent. Majority seemed to be heading to the port. Lana clenched Zain's hand hard in her worry. As if it triggered a response Zain stopped, careening Lana to a stop facing the opposite direction.

"Zain, what? What is it?"

"This way, Damien is this way."

"You knew?" Lana was torn. Had he known? This whole time had he known this would happen and said nothing? But her heart beat faster for Damien, fear rising into her throat making it impossible to stick to this shock. "Lead the way."

There was no time to call Vincent back. He would be safe. She had to believe that. _Please, _Lana sent the prayer up to any deity listening, _please don't let me be trading one brother for another. Or lose both._

An unnaturally black form moved. A shadow that Lana might have been able to ignore if her spine had not turned to ice. Despite the need to continue running, to keep moving towards Damien, she stopped.

"Zain do you feel that?" Lana's eyes searched frantically. She pulled out the milky blade and wielded it as best she could with one hand in preparation. Her honed fighting instincts were in high gear. Her brain was splintered into so many different voices. One part shouting to save Damien another saying that it had been another fleeing Yamani yet she was listening to the part that was telling her that there was something wrong.

"I know," He whispered. Next thing she knew he had pulled her off the street and into the nearest door.

It was something like a supply closet. He held her very close, so close in fact that she could hear the rapid beat of his heart.

Zain closed his eyes tight for just one moment and felt it. She was there in his arms, pressed against his chest. Her heart and breathing were fast. He bent just a fraction and subtly buried his face close to hers. She even smelled sweet.

His heart ached a bit at this particular vision coming to be. A small, stupid part of him had hoped that her heightened pulse and breath would be for him. That she would clutch him in return instead of holding on to him for fear. He opened his eyes but the vision continued to stick. He had made this decision thinking, foolishly, of another scene.

And yet he also had known and still hoped otherwise.

Lana tried to ignore the sound of his breathing, the smell of him, the firmness under her hands. Instead she focused her ears beyond the door that Zain had pulled closed behind them.

Eerily slow steps thudded oddly. Even the screams had stopped. All stood stagnant. Zain's arms tightened around her a fraction as if knowing that she ached to peek out that door and confront whatever it was making its too slow path through the city.

Lana pulled away the slightest bit, lulled by the silence. Immediately, Zain's hand at the back of her head pulled her to him again. The suddenness had her alert again.

His voice was the barest whisper of sound, "Shhh, they're still there."

It was a bad time, she thought, to notice that she didn't mind being pressed against him.

The weight of him was so solid.

"I think they've passed," He all but mouthed into her ear. She wasn't expecting the movement of air and warmth around her ear to send shivers down her spine.

Lana had not realized just how far she had run following Vincent until she realized how long it took Zain to lead her back. "Zain, what are we doing here? We need to be looking for Damien!"

The eeriness had not left her bones sending her voice into nothing more than a whisper. Zain did not respond but rather continued to pull her along. He was so completely sure that she could do nothing but follow.

The stable was a mess. Most horses had fled, kicking down their stall doors in the process leaving bits of wood and a flurry of hay everywhere. Harnesses were thrown and tack that had been hung up was lying where it did not belong. Of course, Lana was proud to find three horses had remained despite the chaos. Their eyes were wide and crazed but they had stayed. Sky was prancing in the stall. For all the crazed look in her eye her movements were hesitant and careful. She was whuffing and making odd distressed sound.

Flash and Moonbeam, the only other mounts left which Lana completely attributed to Karucian training, were feeding off of her mood.

"Sky, girl, what's the matter?" Lana went in attempt to calm the mare with words and hands. She turned to Zain. "Why would you bring me here?"

"Look in her stall," there was a hesitation in his voice, an expectant pain. It reminded Lana of someone anticipating abuse or ridicule. It was this, too, his matching tone that a healer gives the family when there is bad news that made Lana dread what she would see upon looking.

"Damien!" She shrieked. Lana threw the stall door open. "No, no, no...."

* * *

A/N: Alright, please, please, _please_ review. I miss them a lot! I realize I don't really deserve them at this point but I promise you they really DO spur me to write and post up chapters. PLUS I know I left you guys on a bit of a cliffhanger. Eh eh? I hope some of you are still out there!

Please review!


	21. Beast and the Body

A/N: I'm here updating again! Imagine that. I actually had a good flow for this chapter. I have tests I need to study for till thanksgiving though so there may not be another update for a while unless I am just struck down with inspiration.

**Chapter 21: Beast and the Body**

Damien looked like he had simply crumbled to the ground. His legs were not even unfolded from their cross-legged position. His eyes were still open. For one soul-shattering moment she thought him dead.

She fell to him with tears pouring and loud cries. She scooped as much of his upper body to her as she could. She pressed her face to his temple sobbing. She clutched him tighter and tighter, nearly clawing his shoulders in grief as if that would wake him or shake him back to life.

"He's not dead, Lana," Zain said, softly interrupting.

"You," Lana's voice was dark and it was obvious she wasn't listening. "You _knew_ this all was going to happen. You _knew_. You knew and did nothing!"

Zain flinched. Accusations were one of those things that had never stopped hurting. Probably because he agreed. What was the point of knowing if he could do nothing? Even if it were within his power for that instant there had been nothing he could do. He had sensed all of this too late to do any good. Useless.

"He's not dead, Lana," He repeated. He couldn't look at her, the guilty pain in his chest aching from her blow as much as the pain on her face.

It was at that moment the hand at Damien's neck felt movement. He swallowed twice. Lana's breath stopped, hoping to feel even the barest movement, to hear the smallest sound from her brother.

"Damien! Oh, gods, Damien," I would know if he were dead, she thought in her head, I would _know_. The words to ask Damien the whos, hows and whys almost left her lips before she realized where to aim them. "Zain, what's going on? Who did this to him?"

He was leaning against the weight-bearing beam closest to him with one hand laid over both eyes. "I do not See everything Lana. It is not a very omniscient power." A taught moment passed before he pulled away from the beam bolt erect. "We need to leave now. Let's find Vincent and leave."

Damien was coughing now. Weakly his throat spasmed and his chest compressed. His throat was still moving. She leaned in close.

"…je." She caught the last part of a sound.

"Lana, let's go, we need to go." Zain's urgent voice interrupted her concentration.

"Zain, please wait," Having her brother practically dead just moments before made her impatient.

"R-R-," Damien struggled and it hurt Lana to see it. But it seemed like whatever it was would be wearing off, it didn't look permanent. "Rije."

Lana's head snapped up and a momentary, sharp pang of guilt stabbed her. Where _was_ Rije? It was kind of Damien to remember her at a time like this.

"Zain," Lana called. "We have to find Rije."

Suddenly, Damien thrashed—as much as was possible in his condition—one leg kicking and both hands spasming, choked sounds.

"Damien?"

His crystal blue eyes were wide and crazed. It was terrifying to see her normally stoic brother in this way. Even as close as they were, being there for each other in the worst of times, she still knew him and knew how much this spoke for their situation. One hand reached up and gripped the front of her shirt, pulling her down. His voice was guttural when he spoke.

"We leave," Strength was returning to him, slowly. "Vincent."

"We'll find Vincent," Lana was nodding now. "We will. Can you ride?"

"I," Damien sighed. "Be fine."

"Let me help you," Lana tried to take a hold of his upper arm but he released her shirt.

"No, saddle…horses," His voice was breathy but he was getting his message across now. His eyes moved to the other man in the stables. "Zain, help."

Despite understanding the reasoning Lana didn't like it, she wasn't ready to separate from him just yet. Instead she pressed her face to the side of his head for moments before releasing him to tend the horses. She saddled Flash and Sky quickly but she hesitated on Moonbeam. Should she bet on them finding Vincent and bring Moonbeam with them? What if he came back here first only to find that his horse was gone?

What would he expect them to do? He knows I'd take them, Lana thought desperately, but what if to find us he needs Moonbeam? What if we take him and that leaves Vincent in a bad position?

Sometimes, every now and again, questions like these get answered. Yet, the gods or the Fates or what-have-you, often answer them in their way of choosing and that in turn does not often coincide with the preferences of man.

This was one of those times.

Lana started at the sound of the stable doors opening. First to enter were inky shadows crawling along the walls, fast like a hand passing in front of a candle yet darker and more solid. There was something unnatural about them, dark menacing and while she did not feel they were, they felt demonic.

She darted a glance to Damien and Zain. Damien was using Zain as a stabilizer but being a bigger man he was also using the wall for support. They were frozen, too.

The door opened wider and a hand came in first, then a dark-haired head then suddenly Lana knew her brother. All of her instincts melted in one desensitizing wash of relief. "Vincent! We—"

Her smile fell when finally the stance with which Vincent had entered the stable was pieced together in her mind. His hands were raised above his head, palms open in the surrender position. His eyes were wide and he moved slowly, taking careful steps.

"Vincent?" Her voice didn't carry this time, the air gone from her lungs. The blood left her face in expectant horror and drained into her limbs making her feel like she should fall. "What?"

The shadows that had crept in before him crowded them now, as if they would close in and close off the world around them. Moonbeam stamped and whinnied. Then Lana felt it. She sensed the oppressive magic that filled the room. Her own gift rose in her breast as if spurred by some unknown hand to the challenge.

Vincent collapsed to his knees as if pushed and the person standing behind him was revealed. Rije's face was blank as always. Her hair, thanks to Lana, was clean but limp and lifeless, as she always seemed to be. Her black eyes focused solely on Lana, "Is this good, Master?"

* * *

Emereth's nerves were on end. Princess Nozomi had landed on Karucian shores naught but the previous night.

While they had been informed of her earlier arrival, it did not help matters much. Yes, everything had been prepared already but some things such as balls and an elegant welcoming reception could not be thrust upon the nobles of Karucia on such short notice.

They had compromised to send out formal announcements to every family that had already been on the list for the pre-planned balls and feasts but each would be happening exactly when they had been originally planned for.

This had left time, however. This was time that, as Arra had felt the need to explain to him, he could use to get to know Princess Nozomi.

"I'll be honest with you," She had confessed then. "I never had to experience this for myself. Any time I had with your father we were alone."

From his standpoint, her face had turned uncharacteristically red. "I didn't mean that in the way it sounded. I just mean that having time to truly get to know each other will be good for you. I've never had to get to know someone with chaperone's or..or…" If possible she might have become redder. "Blast it, I'm sorry I'm no help. Your father might have been the one for this more than I."

Emereth simply stood in front of the mirror, judging himself in all the finery that adorned his frame. He tugged at one cuff wishing his brothers and sister were here.

Lana would have simply been positive and supporting. Vincent would have joked and kept his mind from focusing on the wrong things. Damien would have been a soothing support, telling him to calm down in a voice that seemed like it truly knew the meaning of the phrase.

He had never realized how much he depended on them. He supposed in his mind he had seen them as almost everyone else did, a triad of their own and somehow apart from everyone else. But he realized that was not completely true. They were his siblings too, and he loved them very much.

He squeezed his eyes shut.

Tonight would be a very intimate dinner, just his parents, him, Princess Nozomi and her people from the Yamani Isles. It was a very unconventional thing to do for a princess who had just arrived. A part of him was scared she would take it as a bad sign. What kind of person was she? Would she appreciate that his family liked to make time for each other in the way of intimate dinners such as this or would she simply take it as an offense to her standing?

"It would be a glorious way to begin all this," He sullenly mused aloud as he rubbed at the hem around his neck. "For her to simply take all of this as an insult."

Lunch was to be held in a small, yet elegant room. Liam found Emereth outside the room using one hand to lean against the wall, looking to the ground. The king placed one hand on his son's shoulder

Emereth jerked upright and away from the wall. "I-I'm sorry."

Liam smiled kindly, "There's nothing to be sorry for. Are you okay?"

Emereth straightened himself out but once he started smoothing his clothes he couldn't seem to stop. "Ah, yes, I just needed a few moments to, ah…"

Liam placed two large steadying hands on his shoulders, half lifting him to a more dignified position and half weighing down the jitters. "Breathe. You have already met her."

"No," He interrupted, quietly since a servant walked past them at that moment to enter the room. "I saw her, I greeted her, but this…"

She had been taller than he expected. She had been soft-spoken but that could have been attributed to the taxing trip. She hadn't met his eyes but he had expected something of that sort from the Yamani culture. She…she..he had nearly nothing to go on.

"You are a good person. You are my son and I know that. You will make a good companion and—"

"And I know that I'm not such a horrible person," Emereth interrupted again. "But what if she…"

He sent his father a glance only to look away quickly. He felt guilty for thinking it. This was something he would have preferred to tell a friend but anyone who he would tell was busy not to mention _he_ was busy with all of this. Vincent would have been a nice confidante for this fear. But his father?

"What if she isn't a good companion? You can't change someone's personality. I just don't think…" The young crown prince sighed.

"Don't go judging her before you've spoken. My brother married a Yamani princess and I overheard many things. It'll be difficult especially since their culture is so different from ours but at the very least don't judge her before you know her." Liam smiled again. "She's no doubt just as scared as you are, probably more since she's traveled miles from her home."

"I know, I know," He took a deep steadying breath. "I guess we better get in there."

Their lunch seemed to drag despite how quickly the food was brought out. It began with formal apologies for such an informal reception. They were taken well since they understood but for some reason it just made Emereth a bit embarrassed.

As time wore on he found himself feeling more and more pressure to create a somewhat substantial conversation with her. There were small chatterings and questions here and there but it seemed lacking. Finally he turned to her, "Are your rooms to your liking?"

She blinked up at him slowly. He was still getting used to the Yamani stone face. "Oh, yes. I have a wonderful view. I think, also, I can almost see a garden."

"I'm sure you mean my mother's gardens," Emereth felt a small sense of relief that the conversation had had a chance to continue.

She gave a small nod. "Back home I was quite fond of the gardens there."

"These are my mother's private gardens, she tends to them directly herself," He sent a glance towards his mother who nodded a small consent. "We could walk them later if you would like."

"I would like that very much," He tried to meet her eyes but she averted them quickly and covered her face with a fan.

Her skin looked very soft, he couldn't help but notice. Her thick black hair was shiny and…

"How about your trip here?" Liam interrupted kindly and Emereth realized he had been staring. "Nothing too bad I hope?"

"Most of the trip here was not too bad," Her eyes darted down then back up. "There was one odd thing."

"Oh?" Liam looked genuinely interested. "Feel free to share, I'm sure we would love to hear."

Again, her eyes made a movement, speaking more than her face would and Emereth tried to take note. "We were attacked as we were traveling through one of the islands."

She paused and her eyes stared thoughtfully out. "It was really quite confusing, they weren't people really…and we were saved by a young woman with a white sword."

A clang of utensils being dropped sounded from across the table. Arra coughed, and Emereth noticed the shocked look on her face. "Oh, a white sword you say? Do you see many of those in the Yamani islands?"

Emereth knew when his mother was being odd. Now was one of those times. He gave her a suspicious look that went pointedly unnoticed by her.

"No, this sword was completely white from hilt to blade. I've never seen anything like it," A small movement of her pale brown eyes. Emereth desperately wished he could read those alluring eyes. "I got only her name."

"You met her?" Emereth asked.

"I thanked her and asked for her name. It sounded foreign," Nozomi looked down, eyes flickered for a moment. Embarrassment? "I'm sorry, you do not care about things like this."

"No!" Arra pulled in the reigns on her outburst. Emereth gave her another odd look. "I apologize, I'm actually quite interested. What was her name?"

"Lana," The name dropped and the room froze. Arra seemed to be the center of the silence, the source for some reason. As if somehow her silence was more intense, overpowering the others in a wash.

Liam was the first to recover. "How interesting."

Arra was spurred but Emereth could tell even when she spoke her thoughts were elsewhere. "Emereth, you said you wanted to see my gardens? They look lovely this time of day and it seems we have been done with our meal for some time."

"Oh, of course," He stood and held his hand out to Princess Nozomi.

As soon as they left, Arra collapsed back into her chair. "Lana, Liam. She's in the Yamani Islands."

"Arra, there's no way to know it was her," He stopped at the intensity of those crystal blue eyes turning on him.

"There is only one milk-white blade I know of and it belongs here," She was breathing hard. "I noticed it was gone. And I know Lana took it."

"White blade? What are you talking about?"

"My father told me the story of King Vincent the First," Arra began.

"Yes, yes. You told me that story when we were coming up with names for the triplets," Liam said, quite confused.

"Well, I might have left something out," Arra stopped unsure if it was bad that she'd kept this to herself or not, especially after their conversation concerning the secrets about the triplets that she'd withheld. "The very same sword that Vincent the First held and used was here, within our walls. I checked not too long ago and it's gone."

Liam sat back in his chair with dawning realization on his face. "So they're in the Yamani Isles."

"It would seem so," Arra sighed.

"You said they were blocked off from you?" Liam began. "Aunt Alanna used to tell me the gods sometimes meddle, is there any chance….?"

Arra squeezed her eyes shut. "I would like to believe that but I feel in my bones that it's not so."

* * *

Lana's brain could not piece together the words. Vincent's head snapped up to look at her, joining Damien's confused gaze. Slowly her head began to shake, "What are you talking about Rije"

"Master, have I done well? I did exactly what you told me to," Her eyes never wavered from Lana.

"Lana, what is she talking about?" Vincent sounded uncomfortable, unsure.

"I don't know!" She half-pleaded with him to believe her. "I don't know what she's talking about."

"Its not you is it? It's the other you," Rije said, emotionless as ever.

"Rije if you're doing something, make it stop now," Lana's heart was beating hard and fast. What was this?

Rije cocked her head to the side. "Just as you said. You said I wasn't to stop no matter what, even if you begged. I'm sorry, none of you can leave."

The shadows crowded in further. One swooped and took hold of Vincent, choking him. More fell on Zain and Damien in a swarm. She felt the thin, hard grasp of one of them take hold.

"What is this?" She shouted. She fought against it but as soon as one fell away two more took its place.

"Master, I would never hurt you," Rije's monotonous voice somehow traveled through the swarms. "You are the only one who understands."

It was then Lana realized something. This was her magic, this darkness. It was why she could permeate it. How does this help me? She grasped desperately for something.

"_You have the ability,"_ The voice whispered seductively. _"To end this."_

Lana couldn't concentrate long enough to formulate a response. Vincent was struggling, failing to the numbers but still moving, still alive. Damien was still half-immobile. She couldn't even see him.

"_She's the source."_ The voice continued to edge around her mind, wrapping and weaving suggestions. _"Stop looking to cure the symptoms when you know how to go straight to the source."_

"What are you talking about!" Lana shouted as she kicked at one of the skeletal shadows. There was a crack and the creature collapsed but as soon as it fell to the ground it seemed to build itself up again.

"_Lend it to me. Lend me you're Gift and this time I will show you exactly how much power you have,"_ The voice, Uncle, said in a voice that was less a whisper than her own thoughts. She could feel her Gift already being tugged. _"Help your brothers."_

Finally, Lana relinquished control.

Uncle took hold of her Gift like a trained professional, wielding it as skillfully as a knight with a sword. Murmurs of spells she had never heard crept around the edges of her mind and fear rose into her breast. The shadows around her let go.

This time, instead of taking control apart from her body completely separate from her, Uncle weaved into her mind and made her pull from her Gift. She sent it out towards Rije and felt the smaller girl's Gift. She _touched_ the black core of Rije's Gift with her own and didn't understand it. Uncle forced her to twist the peridot Gift as he had once before and Rije fell to the ground screaming while the shadows simply vanished.

Lana fell to the ground shaking in fear for she now realized two things.

One, her Gift could reach into other Gifts and now she knew exactly how to do it.

Two, Uncle was not a small insane part of herself but something separate living inside her.

* * *

A/N: Alright! This chapter was a lot longer than I was expecting but that's hardly a bad thing. This was the beginning of a major shift in the story! Yay! Okay, I hope all that read enjoyed it and also very much have the urge to REVIEW. I promise they really do make me write. Please, please, please review!

Oh! The title is from a song written by my friend's band member.

One more thing, if you'd notice I changed the genre from "general" to "adventure/tragedy" you've been warned!


	22. Blood, Bone and Stone

A/N: I know it has been a long time since I posted anything. Too long. I am very sorry. Even if no one is left that reads this I am determined to finish it if only for those that do and also because I'll feel silly if I don't.

**Chapter 22: Blood, Bone and Stone**

Lana shoved the presence the back of her mind again. Time froze for long moments as the confusion settled. Lana felt apprehension bubble up inside of her. What would they say? What had they taken from the scene especially with Rije's body still lying there near Vincent?

"We should go," Lana's voice was hoarse. "I-I need to get some things from my room."

She stumbled to her feet, adrenaline receding a bit and making her feel too soft. She tried to rush past Vincent at the door but he grabbed her arm and gave her a look. "I'll go and grab Damien's stuff too."

Lana tried to think of a reason for him to stay and couldn't. She just nodded. Her chest ached. How could she be afraid to be with her brother? Not just her brother, but also her triplet. Then why haven't I told them about the voice? She thought only to have another thought follow that one quickly. Was that my thought or his?

The trek to their rooms was silent and fast. Lana scooped articles of clothing into one bag not caring too much what she left behind. The one object she made absolutely certain was with her was the white blade.

She rolled clothes quickly, deftly stuffing them away in packs. She clipped the white sword to her, quickly magicking in to keep from being seen. When she finished her packing, and Zain's—the man did not have very much at all—she set on Damien's belongings and this was where Vincent joined her.

"Lana—"

She cut him off swiftly, color rising to her cheeks in shame. "I think it can wait, we're in a bit of a hurry Vincent."

He reached out and snatched up her moving hands, stilling them until she looked at him. "Secrets, sister? From me?"

She looked into his eyes. Only she could tell that his eyes were not the exact shade of their mother's. Her insides quivered dangerously as the guilt settled.

"You may as well lie to yourself as keep it from me," He remarked in a seemingly quiet voice but she knew he was deeply upset with a touch of anger. They finished packing in silence and rushed out leaving the money they owed behind them.

They tied Damien to his horse despite his protests. He _was_ recovering rather quickly but Lana was not about to take any chances. She left Damien with Vincent and dropped Flash back beside Zain.

"Yes?" His eyes were still as black and blind as ever.

"Come with me to the front of the line," Lana did not raise her voice but she knew Zain heard. He complied.

Zain waited in silence knowing Lana would get to her point eventually. Not moments later Lana began, "When we met, you said you knew what brought me here."

"I did."

She bit her lip momentarily. "Can you help me then?"

"Help you with what exactly?"

Lana opened her mouth several times before finally settling on something that resembled what she was trying to convey. "I know I need to go _somewhere_ I'm just not entirely sure _where_."

Zain cocked his head to the side and gave her an equally lopsided, dimpled smile. The sight of his smile made her stomach flutter lightly at her. For one brief moment she wanted to touch his dimple, a curious feeling in and of itself. She almost missed what h said. "Why don't you follow that feeling?"

"Wh-What?" She sputtered thinking he was talking to the flurries in her stomach which had risen in excitement at the thought.

"Listen to the sword," She stiffened realizing that while she had assumed he knew, now that it was said it was still much of a shock. "Follow that feeling, the one that tells you which way to go."

It was hard to follow a vague feeling, harder still to answer her brother's questions. Where were they going? She couldn't answer. By the second day, however, she fell into a routine of looking to the horizon and a sense of communication from the sword at her side. At times she felt like maybe she was leading them in arbitrary circles following a "gut feeling" which could have more to do with what she ate that day than going in any real direction.

Yet on the morning of the third day after they left the city and Rije behind them, three days of keeping to the outskirts of cities and towns as best they could, Lana awoke with a jolt. She felt like she had been some scrying crystal that low-level mages used, circling the map honing in closer and closer until finally she stopped right where she needed to be.

Lana shook her brothers awake and tried to speed up the process of putting away their temporary camp. She tried not to be too pushy, however, especially towards Vincent since she feared he might round on her asking why she could not share her secrets. Zain was the only one who did not need any prompting. Lana noticed how little he truly needed a guide as he put his things away (a process that he was already in when she herself awoke). When he was done he waited on the ground, feet tucked under him. There were dark circles under his eyes as if he'd slept very little.

Despite having his eyes closed, when she had been staring at him for a few moments his cheek dimpled in a smile. _He knows_, she thought with an odd feeling a smile forming on her lips then she had to wonder, _how _much_ does he know?_

Vincent came along and thumped her on the arm, bringing her attention away from the older man. This of course brought her attention to the fact that she'd been staring at him for some time with a smile on her face looking a fool. Vincent gave her a look and a finger-point, one he was obviously imitating from their mother and quite well. Lana colored.

"So," He began loudly, his eyes still had not lost the sheen of slightly betrayed anger. "Where are you dragging us to today?"

"You'll see," She retorted. Behind her feeble front her insides crumbled. Vincent's opinion was obvious and it _hurt_, Damien on the other hand had kept more to himself than ever before. His recovery had been fast and yet it was hard to tell if he'd been shaken by the experience or if the scene that had bothered Vincent had affected him too. Perhaps it was the hours they spent riding beside each other. Again, her insides ached at the implications. She bit her lip.

"Don't worry about saddling the horses," She said just barely loud enough to hear. Hearing it those that knew her best noticed the flat, depressed tone. Flash nudged her, knowing there would be no riding. Damien sent Vincent a pointed look with a head-jerk towards Lana. Vincent shook his head, refusing his triplet's order. Damien looked between the two of them, lips pursed. Silent exchanges being quite normal, and the effect of them garnering about the same response they would if verbalized, not one bothered to voice aloud.

What they had come to was a cave, the mouth of which was in a sort of depression. They had to fight through underbrush to get to that point and seeing it they knew that their horses _could_ make it if they went slowly as the depression was lined with rocks.

Lana led the way, going slowly so Flash could take his time picking his way.

"Lana, are you serious?" Vincent called.

"Quite."

She could not remember ever being in such a mood. Most problems rolled off her like water from a slick, oiled surface. But then, almost no one in the world meant more to her than her brothers. On top of that, she could usually tell when one of their little fights was stupid and it wasn't too hard to play it off. This, however, was bigger. The guilt ate at her from the inside just as Vincent's snide comments and angry looks broke her down from the outside.

_I have to tell them_, she thought clearly. Then was immediately stricken. She trusted them more than she could possibly imagine but how would she fair if they turned disbelieving eyes to her? Or when she began to see the thoughts rise behind their eyes that their sister was not all sane. Hearing voices? Madness.

* * *

Special care was given to the horses that evening. Tension pulled taught over their campground that night as they lay at the mouth of the cave. Damien spent hours staring into the fire and then later when his bedroll was made simply sat atop of it gazing to the circle of enchantments around them. His blankness began to worry Lana. Though he, too, slept after some time.

Vincent ate what meager provisions they had left in stony, affronted silence. Without a word he tucked himself into his bedroll and for all intents and purposes slept. Though unbeknownst to those around him, his anger took a long time to die to a point where sleep could claim him.

Lana tried to sleep several times only to crawl back out of her bedroll and pace from one end of her circle of spells to the other, usually the mouth of the cave. Eventually, she took out the milk-white blade and found a place next to Zain. She continued to clean the blade longer than was necessary, enjoying the company of Zain even though hardly any words were shared between them. So grateful was she for his calming, nonthreatening presence that even when her nerves had momentarily died to a level where she could sleep, she stayed there beside the man and looked up into the slits of sky while her brothers dreamed.

_Vincent found himself atop a mountain looking down upon an empty wash of land. The earth below him stretched for miles as far as he could see. To his left, Damien stood. His brother lifted one hand to his face then turned and they met eyes, one's questioning the other confused._

"_You who have come to me with violence in your minds," A voice trickled to them. It seemed the sort of calling that should have boomed over them with power and yet it came softly and for its seeming gentleness there was no less amount of persuasion. "Why are you here?"_

"_We have not come seeking violence," Vincent answered. _

"_No," The voice whispered. "I can see that clearly. You're aim is not to do violence here, but violence solely in this precise area is not the only violence to be had."_

"_We have come seeking nothing from you," Vincent glanced at Damien. _

_Damien sighed. "Is there something you seek?"_

"_A peaceable mind, a gentle heart, and the strength not to use a weapon only for death," The voice seemed to wind around them though as Vincent whipped around he found nothing that emitted such sounds._

"_What sort of weapon is not constructed for death?" Damien asked._

"_What sort of mind cannot construct a different meaning for the weapons created?" Damien felt a presence behind him as if it were standing not inches from his skin. Against every impulse telling him to whip around he stood still. "I sense in you a stillness, a calmness. Calculated some might call it. A trait that could be deadly just as it could be healing."_

_Damien turned then with a start of surprise but it had moved to Vincent who shivered._

"_And you," A cool wash fell over him. "You beat like the motions of a heart, strong and steady and alive. A vivaciousness that could rend as easily as it could give life._

"_And your sister." Both heads snapped to attention to the one person they loved and protected most. "It chose her because it sensed in her a softness, an innocence and caring it had not run across in years. And it had needed that for all the bloodshed it had known. Yet even she with her gentle heart could not entirely look past its exterior."_

"_Lana has never done something if it would not help or save something else," Vincent said through gritted teeth. Let this being say what it would about him, but his sister truly was a gentle soul and despite the words there was a definite note of disapproval. _

"_This is true, which is why it stays. It believes in her. It thinks she can rid herself of the poisonous presence riding her," Before either of them could comment or question. "And soon you, too, will be able to prove yourselves true."_

_Pain erupted in Vincent's center, sharp and immediate as if the presence had shoved a spear through him. Then the words rang out, "To you I give the heart of blood."_

_Blood spilled down him; bright as a ruby it fell in drops thick and rich as garnets. Each and every drop fell into a form that continued to take shape in front of him. _

_Damien barely had time to react when a similar agony flowed through him. Except his brand of pain was slow as if from depths the aching rose and rose spilling forth in black blood from his chest._

"_And to you I give the heart of stone._

"_Blood, bone and stone." The voice continued as their colored blood—one a bright crimson the other black pitch—continued to take form even as they writhed in pain. "Each carries its own properties for death as well as healing. Each had known its fair amount of death by hands that knew no better yet were these swords ever to be used against each other death befalls its handler."_

_The dream began to fall apart around the brothers panting, each grasping their hands out in front of them and holding onto the only solid object to ground them in their pain._

Hands flying to his chest Vincent woke with a start. Instead of a pool of blood he found a hard line down the length of him. He stayed frozen for long moments barely noticing that Damien groaned not too far away.

He sat up gingerly as if the wound in his chest would spill open at any moment. His hand grasped a hilt. It gleamed a deep crimson at the heart of it glowing out to a brighter shade at the outer layer. It truly looked like his blood spilt and made solid. The hilt buried its blade into a hard leather sheath similar to the one around Lana's with complex markings burned into it.

Damien stood suddenly, so urgently fast that Vincent had to give him focus. He, too, clutched a blade—black, not red or white—in his hands as he stumbled away from his sleeping place to vomit.

"Damien?" Lana called, her voice uncharacteristically careful but clearly worried.

"Lana," Vincent croaked. "I think we need to talk."

She had already risen from her position beside Zain. "What's—oh my."

She'd noticed what lay in Damien's hold. Her first motion was to reach out and touch the blade in his hand but something had her pulling back. Damien, too weak from his stomach recently vacating, only white-knuckled the sword.

Rekindling the fire, they positioned themselves around its low flame. It gave off just enough light to see their faces. Progress stuttered when Vincent argued against Zain joining them but Lana won on that front.

Vincent and Damien recounted their dream. There were parts where both paused and simply exchanged a look as if there were no words for what they had experienced. Lana knew that look, had been part of it with them so many times before now. But here she viewed it from the outside and had a sinking feeling. They had gone together where she could not. It was a brand of jealousy. If she had been less angry or upset, would she have been a part of it too? Almost never had there been a time when wedge of different experiences changed them and separated them and yet she could feel it continuing further as if somewhere it had already started.

When they had become of age in their own times that first spurt of Lana being a woman and they men pulled them in different directions. Her having the Gift had never mattered. Their youthful awareness had binded them. The sex-neutral childhood made everything matter less and yet they had split for moments of their life to their primal urges.

Lana had dabbled in garnering the interest of men but all too soon kissing lost its fun. Vincent explored the world of women and still enjoyed it now. Damien hesitantly took Vincent's lead only to struggle through and realize his interests did not lie in women at all.

Of course, they had not simply gone their own ways all at once on one decided day. It had taken months and months and the changes had been slow but when they settled a bit they still returned to each other, needing time for themselves but finding true acceptance of those selves they had discovered amongst each other.

Lana frowned during their retelling. She gently stroked the white blade upon her lap. "Bone?"

Vincent swallowed, now feeling his own equally curious sword. "I don't think we can say whether these swords have truly been made from these items, who can tell? What sort of dark magic could turn blood into a blade? What sort of bone would that be you think?"

His last question taunted her instead of asking seriously. She glared at him.

"Well, why do you think the dream would come then and with the swords?" She frowned. "You certainly didn't have it before."

"We _know_ that one, thanks," Vincent rolled his eyes.

"To heal," Damien offered, ignoring his siblings' biting comments as best he could. " That was what it said. To heal."

"How do you heal with a sword?" Lana and Vincent blurted at the same time. Lana confused, and Vincent skeptical. They looked at each other for a moment; Vincent pointedly broke the contact. He was too set in his anger towards her to break it now with a moment of shared laughter at their similarity. She, too, set her gaze elsewhere, hurt more than anything.

In the light of recent events, Damien seemed to be shaking off his trauma rather well. He watched his sister and brother and rolled his eyes. Neither would share with him what this rich new fight was about but if they didn't settle it soon he would.

"Most materials have more than one use," Zain's comment took everyone by surprise, and also seemed rather useless until he continued. "Blood has often been twisted to seem like only dark magic but there was a time it was used to heal. Same with bone and stone."

"Explain," Vincent demanded at his most princely.

Zain's blind eyes stared blankly away from them all. "I mean that artifacts and materials with magical properties have been only recently been boxed oh, so neatly into specified areas. There was a time when a material had magical properties and it could be directed any which way as long as the mage or sorcerer was powerful enough. In the same way a sword in itself does not kill, but the arm directing it does."

"A sword in and of itself does not heal," Vincent's blue eyes flashed.

Zain smiled faintly, as if such a solid unwavering belief in anything were quaint. As if he wished he could believe in a world so black and white. "Who says? Even now the most successful sorcerers, the most famous ones, they haven't simply learned what there is to learn and taken it at face value. They push the boundaries because magic has possibilities only limited by their imagination if they have the means."

Silence fell between the four of them then. Nothing would stop them from killing with these swords. The being itself had said that. They had killed many before now. For the swords of blood and stone this information was not immediate to them but for the one in Lana's hold they knew it to be true. King Vincent the First slew many to secure his throne in Karucia.

Yet, was it not also said that the sword turned against him? And that any who used it after him were felled by its very edge? What if the sword had wanted more than death?

Lana liked the idea of healing where she could.

"It said something else, too. It said something about a poisonous presence within you, Lana," Lana froze at Vincent's words. "Know anything about it?"

Her heart beat furiously. For what seemed like long moments, she could hear only the sound of rushing blood in her ears. In a distant part of her, Uncle warned her not to tell. This would be bad.

"I only recently found this out," She whispered for to say it much louder was beyond her. Even Vincent seemed taken aback by this release.

"What?"

"There's been a voice, a boy in my head." The words were coming unbidden now, as the subject of interest wailed inside of her. She clamped her will tight. "He had taken control of my body before. I—I think he instructed Rije through me."

Only now did she look up to meet their eyes. Disbelief and worry coated their eyes. It cut her. No reaction possible could have not hurt her.

Damien rose to his feet, shaking with anger wearing a look that would have been more common on Vincent. "Then what have we been doing all this time? Trying to find _swords_? To what end? We've been wasting our time with this—this—"

Rage choked him and Lana noticed his eyes were overbright with unshed tears.

"You don't think I've simply gone mad?" Her voice sounded small and weak even to her.

Damien took her hands in his own and fell with something like a sob. "How can I know? Even if you told me you suddenly had a craving for blood and wanted to dance naked covered in entrails I would search the world for another option than you being mad."

"You can't be mad," Vincent too, sounded thick with some emotion but he curiously held it better than Damien. As if all the small things in the world could rile Vincent up, but Damien dealt with passively and when the problems were big it had a much different effect. "We know you too well to think that. This is what you've been keeping from us? This?"

"I have not known for so very long," Tears spilled down her cheeks easily at her brothers' love. "I only recently figured most of this out."

"We'll find a way to rid you of this," Vincent promised fervently.

"_You know nothing!" _ Uncle snarled inside her mind. She fell back clutching her head in pain.

Cries sounded from all sides but Uncle surged in her mind. Her left hand moved by his volition, reaching for the white bone blade. Trained as they were to fight, both brothers noticed this and instinctively reached for the first weapon in their hold. For one shining, frozen moment the swords with a knowledge and magic alien to humans knew they were about to be used against one another.

The white blade also knew that the owner it had chosen for its own was not really to blame and did the only thing it could. In the split second it would have take for all three blades to meet it reached to the triplets, called to faraway blood, and shoved.

Lana knew she was leaving this place she tried to hold onto everything around her but some foreign power pushed and pushed. She fell back into arms and took it with her, too. Everything went black as she flew away from the land, the time, the space she thought she knew. She fell with a solid thump, more confused than ever.

* * *

A/N: That's it! Until next time. REVIEW and let me know what you think!

I do have the next couple chapters, but I'm trying to keep them as a buffer between me and this. I seem to write better when I have that. BUT I gotta tell ya, the next couple are a bit more interesting…. REVIEW


	23. Blood Calls

A/N: I like this chapter. That is all.

**Chapter 23: Blood Calls**

A crash and her baby's cries brought Lianne running to the nursery. There she found a young man curled on the floor. Dazedly he fought to get to his feet, a weapon of some strange making in his limp hand.

"Who are you?" She demanded and prayed that this strange man did not hurt her child. How had he gotten in? "Answer me!"

"D-Damien," He stuttered. Was he drugged? What was wrong with him? "Please, where am I?"

"I'll ask the questions!" Lianne yelled. "Drop the weapon."

Damien let the sword slip gently from his hand. In his confusion, he also noticed there was a baby in a crib nearby wailing. He sidled away from the baby hoping to calm the woman. He fought to thinking up something. He searched the room around him for clues. It was a well-furnished room and the woman was dressed richly. Money. This family had money. But how could he know what would help in this situation? He made a leap and hoped.

He fell to his knees, bowing his head in a subservient position. "My name is Damien of Silvercrest, prince of Karucia."

Lianne had noticed his steps away from her child and at the title she froze. "Who is your father?"

"Liam of Conte, King of Karucia." Damien answered promptly.

"What color are his eyes?" Lianne asked as if this would prove it or not, hoping that a true son would know and not some commoner under pretense.

"Hazel," Damien answered after a moment of confusion.

"Look at me," She ordered. Damien complied. Hazel eyes remarkably like that of his father's met his. "Ah, you do look like his son at least."

"You know my father?" Damien asked before he took in her appearance. And there he saw similarities in not just the eyes but the bone structure, too.

"Yes," She smiled then and her face turned beatific. "And your mother too, you have her eyes."

Damien widened those crystal blue eyes in question. This still could go in his favor or against. Who was to say this was not someone who would use him as a bartering tool against his parents, against his kingdom? "And if I may ask, who are you?"

"Queen Lianne of Tusaine," She scooped the sniffling child out of the crib, which brought her closer to Damien. "Stand and greet your aunt and cousin."

* * *

Lianokami shielded her eyes from the sun. Her mount stamped his impatience and she stroked his withers in attempt to calm him. _He_ wanted to run. Her riding partner for the day, Alyza of Lightsbridge, had dropped something and stopped for it. Lianokami's mount would not let her stop and wait. Ayza called ahead.

"Liano, I'm so sorry—oh!" The sound of surprise from her friend made the princess look in the same direction.

Three horses now huddled yards in front of her where before none had been. She was sure of that. If she had been traveling at a faster pace she would have run into them.

Alyza proved her horse could move faster by rushing forward now. "They came out of nowhere. Literally, one minute nothing and the next—"

She was dismounting.

"What are you doing?" Liano frowned.

"There's a man—boy—" She made a hurried frustrated sound as if she were frustrated with herself for worry about word choice at a time like this. "Whatever."

A mahogany bay, dapple grey and crème horse—tall, sleek beasts—nuzzled a form on the ground that could very well have been a young man. Suddenly she was dismounting, too.

All she could see was his body, long and lean, because all three of the horses lipped his face. His hands swatted and pushed at them feebly. His groggy voice joined, with an accent she wasn't quite accustomed to. "Move, you blasted beasts, I can't see anything."

The horses—she couldn't stop marveling at how beautiful they truly were—moved easily at her presence as if they were sensitive to it.

He sat up without the extra ministrations of the horses to hinder him. He looked up at her sharply and as sure as anything despite the fact he had come out of nowhere onto _her_ lands.

His dark hair was a mess, but not in a hideous way. His eyes were compelling. The blue of them was shocking under the fringe of his dark lashes, but then her father's hair was black and his eyes a richer blue. These eyes were clear and pure, not the sapphire she knew. So, while Liano could see he was attractive, she was by no means swallowed by it. Glancing at her friend, Liano realized she, too, had noticed his looks but the reaction was not the same for her. She looked one step away from enthralled.

He stood easily as if springs existed somewhere on his body to boost him. Taller than both of them as he was this proved to be a good move. "Who are you?"

His demanding tone brought Lian's brows up. How he managed not to sound ridiculous—the combination of bewilderment and pretentiousness—she did not know, but he did.

"Shouldn't I be asking that?" She responded coolly.

He flicked those crystal blue eyes between the two of them. Then, as smooth as butter, he transformed before them. His demeanor changed. His body relaxed into a non-threatening slump. A lazy, disarming smile took residence on his face. She was reacting to it before she realized. It was a look she could trust and it had almost made her drop her guard.

Then she marveled at the skill when she realized what he had done. He had read their body language and perfectly manipulated his own to garner a reaction that would suit him best. It was truly impressive. Yet her guard was back up stronger than ever after she'd realized it. Her first thought was spy.

What she failed to realize however was that he had been fairly new at this. If he were truly a master, he would have read them before he stood and chosen something to start with that they could trust rather than literally show them the transformation. He was working on it, and he was getting better. It still spoke well of her that she had noticed, however.

Yet how had he come to be here so suddenly? Even Alyza said he had _literally_ come out of nowhere. That shouldn't have been possible. Even through some sort of conventional magic, there were protections around the castle.

She thought she has schooled herself well, but he slipped out of his front again reacting to her reaction, which was slowly becoming suspicious. In the last one, he'd hidden his intelligence. Now it shone clearly from those eyes.

"Who are you?" Her voice was cold, demanding. Alyza's eyes widened for she was seeing the outcome but had missed the minute changes that had taken place to lead here.

"Prince Vincent of Karucia," His eyes flashed. He proffered his wrists in front of him and didn't look happy about it. "I assume you'll take precautions with me. I ask that you do not mistreat my horses."

Liano thought better of him for asking nothing for himself. Prince? He didn't look as if he was lying but how could she tell?

Alyza was sent back to their horses to retrieve some material. Liano secured Vincent as best she could with the material at hand. He tugged against them and nodded his approval. She trusted him more and more despite knowing better. She couldn't help herself then to give him the same introduction he had given her.

"I am Princess Lianokami of Tortall."

Vincent's eyes widened, a total surprise came over him that she couldn't truly understand. Was it possible ending up here had been as much of a surprise to him as it was to them? He quickly regained his footing, however.

Throwing a glance behind them he said, "And if you wish to secure my sword as well, I would suggest throwing a bit of cloth over it before you touch it. Something tells me she will be finicky about anyone other than me wielding her."

The two young women followed his glance to the bright red gleam amongst the grass. Her first thought was blood but there was no blood on Vincent—of his own or another's. Upon examination, the weapon was so curious and Vincent's warning odd enough that they did as he suggested.

Yet, even with the cloth around it, Liano found herself compelled to drop it. The sharp, unpleasant tingling was just this side of pain.

* * *

Chance and guilt has it that Arra scryed for the triplets that morning. Chance because she did not scry as often anymore, guilt because she felt she owed it to Liam to at least continue after lying to him. Well, kept a secret from him. Even that, she had to admit to herself was splitting hairs.

All she had previously received for her troubles was a murky mirror, so that day when images, erratic and random, appeared she nearly dropped the mirror in surprise. She stared into it again but it was too late, the damage was done and the spell ended. Hope blossomed in her chest though for what exactly she didn't know.

She tried again with the same spotty results and the hope deflated a bit. What had changed? What was giving her images, even poor ones, when she had failed so many times before this? She tried once more, this time concentrating on the magic that went into it rather than the images. She felt her Gift stretch trying to follow the parameters of the spell. It separated and went into different directions. But a scrying spell was meant to pinpoint on specific person or thing to one area. Her magic tried to find three different people in different places. It stretched finding something before it fell apart.

Arra gasped. What had happened? Before now she had searched for them as a whole, as her triplets, their triad. Who? Who first? She had to try something. Arbitrarily choosing a method, she went from youngest to oldest.

An image appeared in her mirror that she readily recognized. The Palace in Tortall. Arra's eyes widened. The image found her son. Vincent was scowling and his hands were bound in front of him. He was walking in a field with two women but the image soon faded. The magics around the castle would let her see her son but not much more.

A tear slid down her cheek but she ignored it and moved onward. Lianne's face came then, brief but sure. Damien's came forward next, he was giving one of his subdued smiles that she knew so well but he seemed well.

If he was with Lianne then he had to be in Tusaine. More tears followed the first but still she was not done. One pays for all.

She scryed once more for that day hopes higher than ever. Her heart sank when the mirror clouded over. Did this mean the triplets has separated? But she had scryed not days before and found nothing. What did this mean? Why were they not together? It was curious that they had found relatives, people and places she trusted for the most part, so she wasn't too terribly worried about her sons but one question burned through all the others. It was a question that would eat at the two brothers just as much.

Where was Lana?

Arra left her position in a hurry to find Liam and tell him what she knew and suggest they send word to both Tortall and Tusaine. What words, she did not yet know but something had to be done.

* * *

"This is truly a curious situation," Lianne said again. Damien had been introduced to the King as well. After their palace mage was satisfied he spoke truth, Damien had been aloud to keep his sword. Though the last man who had tried to pick it up off the floor for him had been sent to the healer and that had set back the entire process again. They were more cautious of the sword than ever and wanted even less to give it back to Damien.

King Heirt had dark red hair cut short and laughing blue eyes. He seemed perhaps a nice enough man, a good enough king and husband for all that he was at least twenty years older than Lianne. Damien saw him look at her though and knew love was there. At least, these things held true when he looked at her.

Lianne tried to look at him as little as possible and that spoke just as loudly. Her child, Akur, looked like neither of them. Idly Damien reasoned that he did not entirely know what their combination of features might create. The hair, brown but with a touch of honey, could fit within the boundaries of his red and her dark. But those eyes, those curious dark grey eyes, did hazel and blue combine in that way?

Damien noticed Lianne's frown towards him so that he changed his point of focus. It wasn't for him to worry about anyway.

"And you say you just appeared in Akur's room?" Heirt was smiling but Damien had the feeling his smile covered a multitude of thoughts.

Vincent was coming close to having a look like that. When Damien wanted to look blank, no emotion showed on his face. Yes, it gave others nothing to work with or that was the idea. But the fact is, people recognize it has a blank face and it reads as secret keeping. It gave its own amount of information by telling others he didn't want to tell them something. That smiling face though both kept its secret thoughts and distracted the viewer unless he or she knew what to look for. Damien was no fool.

He attempted his own smile to assure the king he had been fooled by the look. He knew it was a subdued look, but it was his best. He would never have Vincent's charm and ease. "Yes, your majesty, I know not how I came to be here."

Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Lianne roll her eyes delicately at the repeat of questions, but kept his gaze for the King. Damien had already told his story with some editing and retold it and retold it. He couldn't blame them for being so worried. He had appeared in their child's room and if he could, couldn't someone else? Even so, this process was tedious and he was growing hungry.

"And your brother and sister?" His tone was pleasant enough but the hardness of his eyes belied it. This was his true point of contention. "They will not appear in my bechamber?"

"I cannot know, Majesty." It was something severely at the forefront of his mind as well. Where were Vincent and Lana? Were they somewhere in Tusaine? Or had they, too, been flung? Was there any reason to wherever each of them ended up?

A random thought burst forward in his mind. He hoped Sky was okay, wherever she was. He would miss Sky and mourn her loss were that the case, but prioritizing logically was one of his skills.

Vincent could, one way or another, take care of himself. But Lana, his only sister, was the source of worry that tightened his stomach. Vincent was brilliant in his own way, and loved Lana as fiercely as any of them, but his protective nature was often led astray by his own wants. Or at least, that's how Damien viewed it. Damien took it upon himself to take care of Lana, yes, but to a certain degree, Vincent too. Damien knew he could never control or change his triplets but he could be there to make sure too much harm did not befall them.

What would happen without him there?

Especially Lana. Always especially Lana with her soft heart and giving nature. And especially now with her…problem.

It was easy for people to see the three of them and think, yes, of course they love each other, they're triplets. What was for some reason more difficult to grasp was that they had gone through what any sibling goes through. Loving someone solely because you share blood will only get you so far. A day comes when you realize being born at the same time did not bestow all of you with the same traits, the same likes and dislikes, the same way of thinking.

It had caused many an argument between the three. It had caused some alienation with Lana and Vincent being so outgoing and alike in that sense while his nature was to hang back, be more reticent. But Lana's greatest talent was seeing to the heart of anything, anyone. She had stopped in her flurry of motion long enough to take hold of Damien and bring him along, too. She took time to talk to him to know him to ease his fears. Helped him to confront his parents and ask that they not find a suitable marriage for him, give him a wife he could never please. For _that_he appreciated her, loved her and would die for her. He suspected she had also talked to Vincent. In most ways, maybe all ways, Lana and her relentless love bound them more than their blood or triad or anything.

Long moments passed before he came out of his thoughts to the present. Lianne was smiling at him kindly. "Come, nephew, let's go eat."

She tugged on his arm lightly and growing up in court he knew exactly what she'd done. She was reminding her king that Damien was family and should be treated with a touch more respect. She was also sort of putting herself up to take the brunt of his anger or retaliation should there be any.

A smile, true enough to light those blue eyes formed on his face. "Quite right, I'm a touch peckish myself."

Damien stood then, outwardly calm, but inwardly wanting to find Lana more desperately than he had before his reverie.

* * *

Vincent stared defiantly at his sword atop the table. Teasingly it sat near him but out of his reach. After Liano's declaration of warning no one had dared touch it. They had also all been nearly as curious about it as they were about him.

Hands still bound, he sat at a table with King Roald, his uncle by blood. The King of Tortall watched him with calculating eyes, contemplating. Lindhall Reed they'd called the mage. His hair had once been blond but was now more grey. He had a kind face. He pored over the sword sending tendrils of magic at it.

"Interesting, interesting," He murmured.

"Anything of any use?" Roald's voice was firm but soft.

"No, nothing at all," Lindhall said happily. "But it is a most curious artifact. Very old, I imagine. I think Numair would love to see it."

"Is this still necessary?" Vincent spoke up, a touch frustrated. He lifted his bound hands. "You're mage has worked his truth spells. I truly mean you no harm and I have no idea how I got here."

Roald waved and gave the okay for it. Lindhall sent a bit of magic towards the binding in an offhand way as he examined the sword again. Rubbing his wrists, Vincent very much wished he could take the sword back but he had a feeling if he even went for it without prompting the guards against the wall would react, not to mention the mage and this mage king. Who said he never learned?

Princess Lianokami had been permitted to stay but sat rubbing her hands together. The healer had already looked at them but there was nothing that could be done. It was a lingering discomfort, no more. Vincent wondered what would have happened if she'd tried to grab it. He supposed he would never know since the blade simply felt comfortably warm.

"These are some strong magicks," Lindhall murmured. He looked up at Vincent directly. "And you're sure you didn't do it perhaps? Or see who did?"

Vincent shrugged, not wanting to tell how the sword came to be in his hold. "I haven't a touch of magic."

"How did you come to be across such a weapon?" Roald said again. Vincent's attention turned back to him. Roald had an odd sort of presence. He was calm, calming even, so much so that it might have been easy to ignore his presence until he spoke except that he so obviously exuded…something. Something that let you know he was king here.

"It came to me," He said shortly, realizing as soon as it left his lips how fishy it sounded.

Roald's brows rose but it was Lianokami who said, "Meaning you stole it."

Luckily he knew what to say to that. "I did not. And I doubt the sword feels the same way."

"What do you mean by that, exactly," asked the king.

"I mean that it will not hurt me if I take hold of it," Vincent quickly grew tired of things like this. But he had better breeding than to let it show. "It truly belongs to me. Have him do his truth spell again if you don't believe me."

"Or we could have you hold it, if what Liano says is true," Lindhall said thoughtfully. Liano's eyes widened as if she thought he was calling Vincent's bluff and was almost scared for the outcome. Vincent wasn't worried.

"If I may?"

The King nodded his consent regally. Easily, smoothly Vincent took hold of the hilt and slid the sword from its leather sheath with a flourish. He held it out for Lindhall to examine. The older man bent over it but was careful to let no part of him touch it.

Liano was frowning, Roald simply watched on in the same thoughtful manner. Vincent had the capacity for tact but he chose to ignore it today. He was tired of inaction. Perhaps he could talk his way out of here and be on his way, but what good would it do him? What good would any of it do him? He needed to somehow figure out where Damien and Lana were. Where to begin?

"Am I some sort of prisoner?"

"No, of course not," Roald sighed. "But this is very unorthodox. I'm not sure I learned any etiquette pertaining to when a prince appears on your lands one day. If he came unannounced I would have the right to be offended towards that county but as it were, you seem to have come here quite by your own surprise as well."

"Let us pretend I am only your nephew then, coming to visit his extended family," Vincent suggested with a smile. Roald smiled in response.

"How is my brother then?"

Vincent smiled. "Well, he's well. My mother jokingly says it took him some time to adopt Karucian ways."

"We write to each other," the king said. "I suppose I will send a letter to him now, telling him you're here and we'll go from there."

"Hm, oh yes, and I'll send a letter to Numair," Lindhall gave Vincent a questioning look. "If you don't mind, I'm sure he would love to see this."

Vincent shook his head. "No, but I would really prefer not to be here for a very long time. If he wanted to inspect it as soon as possible I would be willing."

Roald's black brows rose. "Are you in that much a hurry?"

"I…I need to find my brother and sister," Vincent admitted.

Roald blinked at him. "I suppose we will need the full story then."

Vincent told as much as he was willing, from their being together and traveling to suddenly being here. He left out perhaps some important details but he thought it best.

"Is there any chance they are somewhere in Tortall?" Roald was frowning now.

"I have no clue. I know that I am here and that is all." He trusted Damien to take care of himself for the most part. He had an odd thought of Damien ending up on a boat and thought perhaps he couldn't handle himself in any situation. But Lana? Oh gods, he could only imagine the sort of trouble she would get into on her own.

Or…

What would that presence in her mind make her to next? Suddenly his heart was beating faster.

"Curious," Lindhall said and Vincent noticed he was no longer studying the sword so he sheathed it. "This sounds very much like a Blood Call."

"A what?" The king asked.

"Hm, its very, very old magic." He mused. "I've only ever even heard of it in one text. Even then it was a little vague. Are any of your siblings capable of anything like this?"

"Well, my sister Iolana has the Gift but… I don't know. What does the Blood Call do?" Vincent frowned.

"One triplet has the Gift but the others do not? How odd." Lindhall commented. Roald gave a small cough. "Oh right, well the Blood Call is simply said to send those affected with their blood. It is quite sudden and almost a little random. I can't say more than that because there isn't much more the book gave on it. Its very old, difficult magic. No one does it anymore partly because its so complex and takes a good deal of magic and also because it sends those away at random, no rhyme or reason. Or at least none that the spellcaster can control."

"Since this is the only thing we have to go on, I suppose I have a few more letters to write." Roald said kindly. "In the meantime let us have a meal between us. My wife would join us but she is recovering from a recent illness."

The king stood and so all stood with him. Lindhall spoke up again, "I can't be very sure it was a Blood Call."

The king smiled. "I understand, my brothers and sisters however will not be so mad for me bothering them."

No one noticed Vincent's pale face or slightly shaking hands when he clasped them behind his back. How could he convey how badly he needed to find Lana? He could hope she was with Damien but somehow he doubted it. Where was she and was she having a hard time of it? What would happen to her without him? What sort of trouble would that big, honest heart of hers get her into? Yes, her large guiltless eyes could disarm nearly anyone—had she been born a mite smaller like their mother she'd been unbearable for it—but she lacked the knowledge of how to wield such an ability.

* * *

A/N: I thoroughly enjoyed writing this chapter. It's sort of odd but I came to a realization. I think I started this almost grudgingly, having to force the story out of me and here I am now learning more about my own characters and loving them so much more. I'm learning and growing with them just as much as you are, I think.

Ah, and I did cross Vincent's mind to try and flirt with the two ladies before him. Good thing he didn't, really, because we might have had a Star Wars-esque moment on our hands. (Yeah, I know royals used to intermarry, but they don't here or any time soon!)

Tell me anything and everything that's on your mind! (I even usually respond to pretty much all of them if there's a question).


	24. That Tragic Moon

A/N: my life would have been so much easier if I had finished this in a timely manner. Now here I am trying to finish it during my busiest semester. Difficult classes, volunteer hours and applying to grad school-these things are killing me! Ah, but here we are.

**Chapter 24: That Tragic Moon**

A scene flashed before Lana, quick, too much after the dizzying effect of the spell. She knew it had to have been a spell. Her sword had initiated it and through her she had felt it. It was too much to take in all at once. She stumbled, there were shouts, a shove, pain flared in her shoulder. Too much, she thought again, and too soon. She fell into blackness.

The next time she woke it was with a groan. Her shoulder ached, her head ached, everything ached. Fingertips lightly brushed the back of her hand. She took hold of them and struggled to see whom they were connected to: Zain. He smiled, setting off that dimple and knew it was for her though he wasn't looking at her. It wouldn't have mattered for him; his eyes were still black, still blind.

"Where are we?" Lana rasped. She tried to swallow. "Water, please."

Water was brought to her and she looked then at the hand that held it. From here, on a bed she realized, he looked impossibly tall. His hair was black, true black like her own. His skin was a light tan, but the sort that seemed permanent and genetic more than from the sun. His eyes were a hazel, more brown but there was a touch of other in it too.

Lana fought to sit up and the stranger helped her. She thought about refusing his help but it would get her nowhere if she lay there unable to drink and therefore unable to talk and get answers. She drank all the water with a satisfying sigh afterwards then turned her attention to the room.

She searched for Zain's hand again and when she took it a small almost imperceptible sound of surprise came from him. She turned her gaze to the other people and frowned. There was the dark stranger whom she had already seen but there were two other people in the large room. The room was also full of beds and had the distinct feel of a medical area. Perhaps one of them was a healer.

One of them was a woman. She had pale skin, black hair held back in a simple plait and some of the brightest sapphire eyes she'd ever seen. The other was an older man, he had dark skin and whitening hair that had once been as black as everyone else's in the room but Zain. Lana had spent too much time around the palace not to know how people of high blood felt. The woman had to be something high up. She didn't flaunt it or look at her haughtily; there was just something about her that breathed affluence. She was also sitting but the older man and the other man also kept flicking their eyes back to her. She was in charge here.

Lana fixed her gaze upon the woman. What question to seek first? "Where am I?"

"Carthak," The woman said promptly, there was something naggingly familiar about her.

"I apologize, lady, if I am rude in asking but," Lana flicked her eyes to everyone in the group. "Who are you and where am I?"

She smiled again, an intelligent fire lighting in those true blue eyes. "I might ask that you tell me who you are first."

Lana opened her mouth then closed it again. "Has my friend here told you nothing?"

"Not a word," The naturally tan man with the hazel eyes said, there was an edge of frustration. She imagined they had done a lot of asking. "Is he mute as well as blind?"

"If he were, he would not be deaf," Lana said pleasantly enough. The words had more bite and chastisement than her tone and facial expression implied. It made her message clear but did not offend. It was a neat trick.

A laugh, sudden and pure, fell into the room from the woman and broke apart the silence and tension that might have built. "Very true, very true. I am Empress Kalasin and this is my son, Prince Binur. I thought we had taught him more manners than this."

"Oh!" Lana's eyes widened and she gave a small sound of surprise. She realized why the woman—Kalasin—had nagged at her memory. Some, not all, but some of the features and expressions were reminiscent of her father. It was one thing to know her father had been born in a kingdom far away and had many siblings but another to see it. In all honesty, it was hard to reconcile that at some point his life had been like hers. A family, perhaps tight knit as she and her brothers were turning into this where an aunt did not recognize her own niece. It was odd to put it together like that. She swallowed. "I am Princess Iolana of Karucia. You are my father's sister."

"This is quite…unexpected. And who is your friend?" The empress nodded out of politeness.

"Zain," He responded for himself. Lana marveled at the softness of his voice. "I own no titles."

She nodded but made no comment. Lana realized with a jolt she had not told Zain she was a princess. Had he known somehow? His pinpointing of the fact that he had no titles was curious. Lana cleared her throat and all attention was back on her. She touched the bandage on her shoulder lightly. "If you don't mind, Majesty, what happened?"

"I shall leave that to my son," and as soon as she said it Binur's skin pinkened slightly and he turned apologetic eyes to her.

"It was one of my arrows that struck you," He paused there but continued more apologetic. "You dropped in just as I released. I would have struck something more important but your friend was already pulling you out of the way. He had simply appeared, too."

Lana smiled at him and that caught him off guard. He quickly regained himself. "It sounds like it was hardly your fault."

As if that were behind him, Binur regained confidence shrugging into a princely mantle. Or at least more dignified than the apologetic one. Lana was glad that a prince like him had that more humanistic side however. She appreciated it and tried to let him know with her smile.

"Do you know what happened?" Kalasin's eyes were sharp now.

Lana smoothed her lips together, thinking. She gave the only honest answer she knew. "We were sent here, thrown here. How or why I do not know."

Binur was frowning. It might have been more of a scowl but he'd reined it in out of politeness. "That makes no sense."

Lana shrugged. "It is all I know."

"Were you running from something? Did your magic do this?" Kalasin prompted.

"Not precisely, to the first," Lana answered simply. She hadn't been running, really. But her sword had responded to some wrongness, something that should not be. "And no to the second."

"What do you mean by not precisely?" Kalsin asked. The only thing keeping Kalasin or Binur from losing patience with Lana was the air she had. Lana truly seemed to be answering to the best of her abilities and her large hazel eyes held too much sincerity to have anything else.

"Well, I myself was not running from anything. It was…foreign magic."

"You mean someone else's magic threw you here? From where?" Kalasin had taken control of the questioning. She leaned forward onto her knees, chin against her clasped hands.

Zain gave her hand a warning squeeze but Lana saw no reason to lie. "The Yamani Islands."

Sudden longing filled her breast. Lana barely held a sigh. Where were Vincent and Damien? She had felt them flung, too. Felt them leave her here. She missed them achingly. How much time had they ever spent apart? Even with their parents trying to get them away from each other—for independence they'd said—they had managed to get around that too. Sometimes because they'd needed each other, other times simply because they didn't see the point. Or maybe it had been for her sake only.

Pain, different from the one in her shoulder, flared at the corners of her mind. She winced. Anger, someone in there was very angry. She wanted to run. She wanted to cling to Damien or Vincent. She needed something, anything.

Zain squeezed her hand again, firmer this time. His calming presence was like a large stone amongst the pounding waves. Like he had known far too much chaos, perhaps had danced with it at some point, but knew now it was better to let it be. It was serenity hard forged, she knew, there was a tinge of sadness to it. Not true calm, then, but something. A weight perhaps. A weight, a heaviness, a depth he'd earned and was lending to her now.

Everyone in the room had noticed the pain that went over her though none could truly guess. The healer stepped forward. "I think our charge needs her rest. I put a slow healing on the wound and that might take some energy from her as well."

"Very well," Kalasin consented. "But we will need to continue this. It is frightening, what you have done."

Kalasin held Lana's gaze for long moments. The elder of the two broke the intensity of it when she seemed satisfied her message had gotten through. "This is Ibtea, he'll be your healer."

The two royals of Carthak left then with proper, respectful goodbyes. Zain stayed and she appreciated his presence.

"They are right, you probably should rest," Despite being blind, there was some emotion in his eyes, in the lines of his face that she could not read. It was drowningly deep and it brought a shiver to her. She smiled at him.

"Perhaps."

No sooner had she relaxed back into the bed than her eyes began to droop. Zain was humming a comforting tune, light with an edge as most things had with him. Still clutching to that last bit of wakefulness she thought she felt his hand carefully stroke her hairline in equally relaxing motions. Finally, she slept.

For three days, Lana wandered the palace with Zain. Her shoulder injury was healing nicely and it wasn't nearly enough to keep her bedridden. Despite being able to wander she had the impression close tabs were still kept on her. She was treated as a special guest for the most part but she also thought if she were to try and leave she would not be able to, not that she had anywhere to go.

It took her a portion of time to understand Zain was putting forth effort to distract her from worrying about Damien and Vincent. He was distracting enough simply by starting conversations with her and offering to walk with her somewhere. So reticent was he that every time he spoke without prompt, a part of her leapt with joy.

She began to recognize that when his lips tightened around the edges he was withholding a smile. Lana desperately wanted to see his smile but wanted it to be erased of sadness. She had begun to form a tie to him long before she knew. Her brothers had sensed the possibility from her but Lana had always given herself freely, she knew no other way. And before she realized it, she had begun giving Zain pieces of herself, too. Small pieces here and there, a smile, a look and receiving a flush of warmth at seeing something like happiness from him in return for her smallest gestures.

The insight to herself hi her suddenly. So suddenly, it was almost a blow. She would miss him, were he gone.

It was almost odd being with Zain without her brothers. They had not interfered with their friendship but they had always been a watching weight. Suddenly they were alone, Zain and she, and with her own realization she became uncharacteristically shy at first.

She had been one a walk of the grounds with him when this crashed into her and for a moment it stopped her. As if Zain were acutely attuned to her, he stopped and frowned.

"Are you well? Your shoulder…or?" She knew what he referred to; she shook her head though he couldn't see it.

"No, no," She murmured and said something else entirely she had though. "I thought myself brave, you know, for traveling. I think, though, had I truly been brave I would not have brought my brothers."

They began to walk again and Lana drank in the reactions of his features. His dark brows rose. "Only vagrants and beggars travel alone. Not out of bravery, but because they have nothing else."

Lana shrugged. "I only wish I had not brought two people I love most into harm's way. Do you…?"

She left the question hanging but he understood. "No, I do not know where they are."

There was another one of those tight, hidden smiles. They had walked under a hidden area purely by chance. Lana's fingers brushed his dimple lightly yet he froze under the touch.

"You have such a nice smile," She whispered. "I wish you wouldn't hide it so."

He was silent for long minutes. His hair was back in a braid. She noticed now that the end of it curled. His face, more beautiful or pretty than handsome, was blank and lovely. He was taller than her, she knew, but his shoulders hunched almost flinchingly as if too much of the world had beaten him.

She ached for that sad beauty. What had he seen over his years to make him so prematurely tired and world-weary? She nearly started when he spoke.

"I do not think," He began slowly, softly. "That I ever mean to hide my smile, not a purpose. I have just…known so little to make me smile that I'm not sure what to do with it."

"That," her voice waivered with the sudden tears. "I think is far worse."

He smiled, then, openly and his dimple deepened but it was tainted with sadness and pain that it nearly broke her heart to see it.

He raised one hand hesitantly. She took hold of it and pressed it to her face almost angrily. But the anger was not for him but for the injustice of all that hurt.

His hand lay over the tears that had already spilled and fresh ones hit his fingers.

"I did not mean to make you sad," he whispered. His thumb gently brushed her cheekbone and the wetness there.

She shook her head. She didn't think about her next actions. Impulsiveness and love, these things came easily to her. She buried her fingers as far as she could into his hair, the braid, and pulled his face to hers. He was compliant under her hold. Lana kissed him then. Soft but firm in her actions. He was frozen for only a moment. He shuddered and something released inside of him before he kissed her back. Her stomach did an odd flop she had never experienced at his response.

She pulled back in a question.

"You cannot fix me," He breathed. "I've been broken for too long."

"No," whispered Lana. "No."

And she was kissing him again.

She wasn't sure what she meant by 'no'. It wasn't true to say she didn't want to fix him. She wanted to ease that pain. She wanted to prove that he was worthy of anything, everything. Even her love.

His hand slipped to the back of her neck causing a small sound to escape her, not one of protest. He kissed her gently; almost reverently as if she were sweet nectar and he wanted to drink her down without spilling a drop.

He broke the kiss first, blinking furiously. "This…this should not happen."

"Why, why?"

"You are a princess, I am nothing," She'd forgotten he knew that now.

"Not nothing," She tugged him towards her but he resisted now. She pressed the line of her body to his just enough to feel that line of warmth like a promise.

He stepped away laughing shakily, Lana found she liked the sound of his laughter. "No, no, please. My control is not endless. Especially not where you are concerned for you are the most perfect thing I have ever seen."

At his choice of words, she looked to his eyes. They were pale, pale grey outlined in charcoal once again. Sight was there.

A slow smile spread across her face, she saw him react to it, shining a little brighter for her. "You can _see_."

"I—" He laughed again, sudden and perfect. "It has never meant more."

No, a few kisses from her had not fixed him, had not healed him. The pain was still there and still very real. Nothing could ever really take it away completely. But for the first time there was a light in his eyes that had nothing to do with gaining sight back. He was the moon, she realized in another moment of clarity, surrounded by the only thing he'd ever known: darkness. But she was the sun, shining with her own light, her own warmth and vitality. Finally, he had peeked from behind the earth and for the first time bathed in what he had always sought and reflected it back making him all the more beautiful.

Giddiness bubbled inside her and burst forth in a joyous laugh. He smiled then; more subdued more himself as if the reality of the world was enveloping him again except now there was a small barrier between it and him, her.

"Well, if you refuse to kiss me at least be a gentleman," She positioned his arms so that she could place hers atop it.

"I thought you knew I was no gentleman," It took her a moment to realize he was joking, teasing her. She laughed and thought it to be a lovely ending to any sort of day.

Lana has never been conditioned, as some are—jaded perhaps, to fear what might come next. Some character trait let her live in the moment, let her fully feel the moment for what it was be it happy or sad. Most people sought this, but it wasn't something that could be learned and once the world has crushed you, it becomes all the more difficult. It was a glorious gift, to be sure, but it was terribly shortsighted. It let her be happy about the now but it kept her from acknowledging that the next hour, day or week could produce some horror that would swallow that happiness whole and not regret it.

And because she never thought to protect herself, it would crush her.

* * *

A/N: I hope no one thinks badly of Lana for this last bit here, thinking she's the sun and he's the moon. It almost sounds conceited but 1) I don't think its really in Lana to be too conceited and 2) she's just realizing how Zain feels.

I know this has dwindled in importance for my readers but I still live in hope of seeing reviews!


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